


You're the One That I Want

by PR Zed (przed)



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fake Marriage, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, M/M, Minor Natasha Romanov/Sam Wilson, Pining, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-28
Updated: 2018-11-12
Packaged: 2019-08-09 01:38:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 53,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16440599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/przed/pseuds/PR%20Zed
Summary: "You don't have to worry about not having good health insurance," Bucky says.  "I'll pay.  Whatever your treatments cost, I'll pay it."  He'd pay anything to save Steve."I can't let you do that," Steve says.  "I can't let you drain your savings when we both know I'm going to die eventually anyway.""Don't say that," Bucky says.  This is a problem.  He can solve problems.  He solves problems at work all day.  That's what he does.And then it comes to him.  The wonderful, horrible solution to this catastrophe."Let's get married," Bucky blurts out.When Steve's heart starts failing, Bucky's gold standard Stark Industries health insurance gets Steve the treatment he needs.  But Bucky finds that when you're secretly in love with your (maybe dying) best friend, things get a lot complicated, fast.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [debwalsh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/debwalsh/gifts).



> This story was written for the Fandom Trumps Hate 2018 auction. [debwalsh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/debwalsh) successfully bid on me, and requested a fake relationship story. Which led my muse to start me on the road to write 51K of angsty hurt/comfort with a side of happy ending. (To be fair, it doesn't take much for me to write angsty hurt/comfort.)
> 
> Huge thanks to [halotolerant](https://archiveofourown.org/users/halotolerant), for being my beta and source of medical knowledge. She is absolutely responsible for 10K words of this story because, in her words, I was "killing Steve too quickly." Any remaining medical errors are entirely my fault
> 
> Enormous thanks are also due to [HoneySempai](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HoneySempai), who provided expertise on the two Jewish weddings in the story, and stopped me from any cultural insensitivities I'd stumbled into.
> 
> Since the story is complete, save for a few tweaks in later chapters, I'm going to post one chapter a day for the next 16 days.

Bucky always says he's known Steve all of his life. 

That's a lie.

Before he'd shown up in Ms. Beatty's class, Bucky hadn't known Steve at all. Before then, Steve had only been a rumour in the neighbourhood. Something the moms would whisper about when they thought the kids weren't listening, forgetting that kids are always listening, keeping their antennae up for information on the adult world they can only see the edges of. So, Bucky heard all of those whispers.

_Did you hear about Sarah Rogers' boy?_

_They say he needs an operation._

_And so soon after she lost her husband. Poor woman._

_They say he won't live out the year._

_They say he won't make it to three._

_They say he has to have another operation._

_They say he won't be able to go to school._

_They say he'll be dead before he's five._

Bucky didn't know who they were, but when Sarah Rogers' kid kept not dying, he thought _they_ must be pretty stupid. And then, on the second day of the third week of grade one, Ms. Beatty came back from the office with a scrawny little kid with the messiest blond hair and biggest blue eyes Bucky had ever seen. She told them the blond kid was their new classmate, Steve Rogers, and Bucky knew _they_ were beyond stupid.

Steve Rogers was the most alive person he'd ever met.

He might have been shorter than everyone in the class, with skinny, bird-bone wrists, and ribs you could count. He might have had an ugly red scar running up the middle of his chest that you got glimpses of when the collar of his Star Wars t-shirt shifted. He might have had chunky black glasses that magnified those blue eyes. But Steve radiated a fierce fury, like he was daring everyone in the class, everyone in the _world_ , to make fun of him.

Bucky was overjoyed when Ms. Beatty put Steve in the empty seat next to him.

Then, during his very first recess, Steve had faced down Mark Highsmith for pulling Jenny's hair and pulling off Malaika's hijab. Steve had taken a swing at Mark before anyone realized what he was going to do, and had got a punch in the face in return before Bucky managed to haul Mark back by the collar of his shirt.

"I had 'im on the ropes," Steve had said as he and Bucky had waited in the principal's office, his nose streaming with blood.

"I know you did," Bucky had replied.

"And he deserved it."

"He totally did. Mark's always been a bully. I don't like bullies."

"Me, neither," Steve had said, looking up at Bucky with the same fierce determination he'd had when Ms. Beatty had introduced him to the class.

Right then, Bucky had decided Steve was his best friend.

They'd been best friends all the way through grade school. Steve had stood up to bullies, whether they were going after Bucky's little sister, Becks, or kids they didn't even know, and Bucky had backed him up, every time. Along the way, Steve had made friends with every kid he'd ever defended, the ones who were too skinny, too fat, too geeky, too gawky, too Black, too Hispanic, too Muslim, all the ones who'd been at the mercy of Mark Highsmith and boys like him before Steve Rogers had shown up at PS 191.

They'd been best friends when Steve got real sick at the end of fifth grade and had to go for another operation. Bucky had sneaked around behind his mom's back, sweet talked Mrs. Rogers, hid in hospital stairwells, and made friends with the nurses on Steve's ward, all so he could visit Steve every day he'd been in hospital. "Do hospitals have punch cards like the ice cream place?" Bucky had asked him one day Steve was looking down at being stuck inside when it was perfect baseball weather. "'Cause if they do, they'll owe you free operation soon." "Don't make me laugh," Steve had said with a wince. "Laughing hurts." But he'd smiled anyway.

They'd been best friends in seventh grade, when Steve had announced, with his usual fierceness, that he was gay, and he was going to start a Gay Straight Alliance at the school, and Bucky was going to be his second-in-command even if he was straight because that's what made it an alliance. Privately, Bucky had known he was less straight than Steve thought he was. But he hadn't said anything, because he'd also known he was in love with Steve, and he'd been afraid that Steve couldn't be in love with him, that he didn't deserve Steve. But he didn't let his fear stop him from being Steve's friend, or from running the GSA with him, or from loving Steve in secret with everything he had. 

They'd been best friends all through high school, when Steve had kept wearing chunky black glasses not because they were all his mom could afford, but because they were now nerdy cool. High school, where Bucky had watched Steve date a series of boys who weren't good enough for him, weren't brave enough for him, and Steve had watched Bucky date a series of girls he never was terribly serious about. Bucky hadn't been proud of the fact that he was always happy when Steve broke up with his latest not-good-enough boyfriend, because Steve would come over to his place and cry on Bucky's shoulder until he steamed up his glasses, and Bucky could hold him and pretend, for a few days anyway, that he was brave enough to ask Steve out on a real date.

They'd been best friends as freshmen in college. Bucky got into Columbia for Engineering, and Steve into NYU for art, and they'd both lived at home the first year, crossing in from Brooklyn together every morning. It had been great, until Steve collapsed in the fine art studio the last month of school, and ended up back in the hospital, back in surgery. Bucky had skipped his own classes and gone down to NYU to plead with Steve's profs to give him a pass on his assignments, to mark what he'd managed to do before he'd collapsed. He'd never told Steve how much effort it had taken to keep the university from giving him all incompletes, how he'd nearly failed a couple of his own classes while he was making sure Steve didn't fail his; he'd just given the paperwork to Mrs. Rogers and gone to visit Steve in the cardiac ICU of Brooklyn Methodist. "You've got four operations on your punch card now, Stevie," Bucky had told Steve, hoping to at least coax a smile out of him. "They have to give you your next one for free." Steve hadn't smiled that time, and that had scared Bucky even more than how small and grey he'd looked surrounded by so much beeping machinery. 

They'd been best friends all through college. Steve recovered well enough to be back in class their sophomore year, though he had to manage his energy more carefully after that. No more all-night studio sessions or pub crawls. They both got summer jobs the next year (Bucky at a construction firm, and Steve in an ad agency's mailroom) and saved up enough that they could afford a place together in their junior year. It was in their apartment, a tiny, shitty studio as close to halfway between the two campuses as they could manage, that Bucky finally came out to Steve. "I'm bi," he'd said. "I always kinda knew it," Steve had said. And that was it. Bucky had hoped that Steve might confess that he'd been in love with Bucky all along, but he didn't. And Bucky had been too scared to confess that _he'd_ been in love with Steve since he'd figured out the difference between loving and being in love. So, they went on as before, best friends forever.

They'd stayed best friends after graduation, both living at home for a few months until Bucky got his first real job at an engineering firm, and Steve started getting regular freelance design gigs. Then they got an apartment together back in Brooklyn. It had been slightly less tiny and slightly less shitty than their college apartment, barely big enough to hold all their books, Steve's easel, and two beds, but Bucky had loved it. Had loved sharing a home, a real home, with Steve, his best friend. But then a driver had run a red light and Mrs. Rogers had been hit in a crosswalk on her way in to work, and Bucky had become more than a best friend. He'd become all the family Steve had. "She always thought she'd bury him," Bucky's mom had whispered to him at the funeral home as they'd watched Father Gregory try to console Steve. "I'm going to look after him," Bucky had told his mom, hating how sad Steve looked, and missing Mrs. Rogers almost as much as her son did. "Sarah would have wanted that," his mom had said, even as she'd wrapped an arm around his elbow. "She'd always hoped…" She'd stopped then, until Bucky prompted her with a nudge. "She'd always hoped the two of you would get together." She'd looked at him then, with sympathy and understanding. "I've never understood why you didn't." Bucky had felt his throat tighten and tears prick his eyes, and he'd only been able to shake his head. He hadn't been able to tell his mom that he'd have been with Steve in an instant, if only Steve had said he wanted him.

They'd been best friends for the next two years, as Steve learned to deal with grief, and Bucky learned to deal with a grief-stricken Steve. James Buchanan Barnes had replaced Sarah Rogers as Steve's emergency contact. When Bucky had gotten a promotion, then a better job entirely, working for the Stark Industries clean energy team, Steve had been there to celebrate. And when Bucky's new pay check ("with benefits and a 401K, Steve!") had let him finally move into an apartment that wasn't that tiny or at all shitty, he'd made sure it was a two bedroom with good light in the living room for Steve to do his art. "I feel like I'm freeloading," Steve had told him. "I can't pay close to half the rent on this place. I should move out on my own." Bucky had grabbed his shoulders and given him a good shake. "Don't be a moron," Bucky had told him. "You can get us an even bigger place when you have your first show at the Guggenheim." 

And that's where they are now, best friends, living in a co-op back in Crown Heights, where they'd started. And if Bucky sometimes wishes that there was more between them, he's been happy enough.

Until today.

Today, he's at work, putting finishing touches on the specs for a new solar battery that Tony Stark himself has asked for, and his phone rings. When he notices it's New York Presbyterian Hospital on the caller ID, adrenaline immediately spikes through his veins.

"Hello?"

"Is this James Barnes?" a woman asks. "Next of kin for Steve Rogers?"

"It is," he says, thankful he's sitting down because he can feel the strength leave his legs, his body. If anything's happened to Steve... "Is Steve okay? Is he—"

"Steve is in the ER here at New York-Presbyterian/Columbia Hospital. He was brought in unconscious, but now he's asking for you."

"Is he okay?" Bucky asks again, needing to know.

"The doctor will want to talk to you," the woman says, the sort of non-answer that never means anything good.

Tony Stark has asked for these specs by the end of day, but right now Bucky doesn't care about that. He doesn't care about anything but getting to Steve.

"I'll be there as soon as I can."

"Check in at Information when you arrive," she says. "He might still be in ER, but they're transferring him to the cardiac unit soon."

So, it's Steve's heart. Of course, it's Steve's heart.

He realizes that he's been ignoring the signs that something's wrong for months, now. The doctor's appointments that Steve had before Christmas. The extra prescriptions that have appeared in the medicine cabinet since New Year's. The way Steve's always tired or out of breath lately, and blaming it on asthma and good old New York City pollution.

Instead of facing the truth, he's been telling himself fairy tales, telling himself that Steve will live a long and happy life, Bucky by his side as long as he was welcome.

He cuts the connection on his phone without a goodbye, trying to decide whether to flag down a yellow cab or use an Uber.

"Everything okay?"

Bucky looks over, and sees Sam looking at him, concerned. Sam Wilson is another new hire at SI, and Stark has had them working together. He's a good guy, smart and funny. They give each other shit all the time, but he likes Sam. And Sam doesn't deserve what Bucky's about to do to him.

"I gotta go. Steve's in hospital. I gotta be there." He looks at the specs he's almost finished. "Can you finish these up? Deliver them to Stark? I don't think I'll be back today."

"Of course." Sam frowns in concern. Bucky's told Sam about Steve. He couldn't not tell him about Steve. Sam knows Steve is his best friend, knows Steve is talented and brave. Sam knows Steve has nearly died on Bucky twice before. "Is it serious?"

"They're taking him to the cardiac ward, so...yeah?"

"You do what you gotta do, Bucky." Sam pats him on the shoulder. "Don't worry about the specs. I'll handle them."

"Thanks." 

Bucky throws on his jacket, stuffs his phone in a pocket, and runs.

New York-Presbyterian is probably the only hospital in Manhattan and Brooklyn that Steve _hasn't_ been stuck in, the only hospital that Bucky doesn't know like the back of his hand, so in the elevator he pulls up Google maps to find the best way to get there.

Everything takes too long. Once the elevator reaches the ground floor, there are too many tourists in the lobby, marvelling at Tony Stark's miraculous building, and he has to push his way out through them. When he hits the street, the late-January air is cold in his lungs and traffic is a snarled mess. He skips all thoughts of a cab or an Uber and heads straight for the subway. He only needs to take the S train one stop, but it gets stuck in a tunnel for five minutes. He finally gets to the Port Authority station to transfer to the A train and gets a seat in the corner of the car and settles in for the long ride to 168th Street, the rattle of the train and the murmur of other passengers mere background noise for the panic building in his chest.

Once back on the streets, it takes too long to find the entrance to the hospital, too long to find Information, too long for them to tell him where Steve is. Too long to find the cardiac ward. Too long for the nurse to give him Steve's room number, to tell him not to excite Steve too much. Like he doesn't know that. He's been through this before. He knows he's got to stay calm, to keep Steve calm.

But he walks in the room, and all pretense of calm goes out the fucking window.

Steve's in the bed, an oxygen cannula in his nose, an IV in his arm, heart monitors stuck to his chest, and an O2 monitor hanging from one finger. His chunky glasses are on the nightstand beside him, and without them his face looks small and grey. Worse, he looks like all the fight's gone out of him.

He's not alone. There's a doctor standing at his bedside, a tall, middle-aged, black woman who radiates calm and authority. She's writing in Steve's chart and looks up at Bucky, her gaze sharp and evaluating. 

"Are you Mr. Barnes?" she asks, her voice firm and calm with a hint of accent that's part British Isles, part Africa.

Bucky nods, and Steve turns toward him.

"Hey, Buck," he says, his voice no more than a whisper.

"I'll leave you two alone for a moment." She turns to Steve. "Mr. Rogers, you hit the call button if you need anything."

Steve nods as she's leaving the room.

"What's going on?" Bucky asks as soon as they're alone.

"My heart's failing," Steve says.

"So, what does that mean? Another surgery? A pacemaker? Better meds?"

"It means I'm dying, Buck," Steve says, so matter-of-factly that it takes Bucky a few seconds for the horror of the words to reach him.

When he does take it in, Bucky hears the ocean rush in his ears, feels a cold torrent down his spine. He stumbles over to the lone plastic chair in the room and sits in it heavily, the static in his head overwhelming him.

Steve can't be dying. Because that would mean _they_ were right, all those years ago. And _they_ can't be right. Bucky won't let them be right.

"That can't be..." He tries again. "That's not..." He stops and takes a breath. He wants nothing more than to deny this is happening, but that won't get Steve out of the hospital bed, won't make him look any less wrecked. "There must be something they can do."

Steve shrugs his shoulders in the way he always used to when Bucky would ask who'd beaten him up this time. It makes Bucky clench his fists. Steve's always been far too willing to fight his own fights, not asking for help even if he needs it. The heart monitor starts making a shrill beeping sound that Bucky's quite sure isn't normal, and the doctor appears in the doorway, a concerned look on her face.

"You need to calm yourself, Mr. Rogers," she says, as she sweeps in to check Steve over. She gives Bucky a disapproving look that makes him shrink in his chair.

"Can you…" Steve starts to say to the doctor before he stops himself.

"Can I what?" she says as she makes an adjustment to the drip of his IV. She makes her voice sound casual, but Bucky can see how closely her attention is focused on Steve.

"Can you explain to Bucky? What's going on?" Steve's voice has lost what little energy it had.

"You want me to explain my diagnosis?" she asks, her body language showing she doesn’t trust Bucky one little bit. Not that Bucky blames her. He shows up and then Steve's vitals go to hell. It's not the best recommendation.

"I'm sure," Steve says. "You can tell him everything."

"Do you want me to do it here?" she asks.

"Could you… not?" Bucky doesn't think he's ever heard Steve sound so hesitant before, and that makes him even more terrified than he already is. "I'm so tired."

"You get some rest," she says, her voice sure and gentle. "We'll go down the hall."

Steve nods, and his eyes begin to drift closed almost immediately.

"Don't go anywhere," Bucky tells him, and that earns him the slightest of smiles from Steve.

"Wasn't planning on it."

The doctor leads him out of the room and to a small office off the nursing station. Bucky barely waits for them both to sit down before he speaks.

"Steve says that his heart is failing. That he's dying. Is that true?"

The doctor clucks her tongue.

"Before I answer your question," she says, "can I ask a few questions of my own?"

Bucky nods.

"You're listed as Mr. Rogers' next of kin. Are you his boyfriend?"

"Best friend. I've known Steve since we were kids."

"And do you feel like you know him well?"

"Better than anyone. What's all this about?"

"Is Mr. Rogers, Steve, the sort of person to give up? Is he, and I'm afraid there's no way to say this delicately, is there a chance that he could be suicidal?"

"Steve?! No! Steve's a fighter. Always has been."

"Then to answer your question, yes, your friend's heart is failing. But that doesn't necessarily mean that he's dying. There _are_ treatments available. But Steve is refusing to discuss any of them."

And that doesn't sound at all like Steve. 

"Did he say why?"

"He's mentioned his insurance…"

"Shit," Bucky breathes out, knowing exactly why Steve hasn't wanted to talk about treatments.

Steve may need a fifth surgery, but there's no magical punch card that's going to get him this one for free. All of Steve's other surgeries had been covered under Sarah Rogers' insurance. But as a freelancer, Steve doesn't have benefits, and he could only afford the crappiest health insurance that was available. He's lucky it covers his monthly prescriptions. There's no way it would cover the kind of expenses that another surgery would mean. But Bucky's damned if he's going to let something like money stand in the way of Steve not dying.

He stands, and scrambles to get out of the room and down the hall. He runs into Steve's room, where Steve is already sleeping. As the doctor catches up to him, he takes hold of Steve's arm and gently shakes him awake.

"You don't have to worry about not having good insurance," Bucky says. "I'll pay. Whatever your treatments costs, I'll pay it." He'd pay anything to save Steve. To make sure _they_ weren't right.

Steve blinks, and pushes himself up in the bed.

"I can't let you do that," Steve says. "I can't let you drain your savings when we both know I'm going to die eventually anyway."

"Don't say that," Bucky says. He's not going to give in to what _they_ have always said, and he won't let Steve give in either. This is a problem. He can solve problems. He solves problems at work all day. That's what he does.

And then it comes to him. The wonderful, horrible solution to this catastrophe.

"Let's get married," Bucky blurts out. 

Bucky's had fantasies of this moment even before gay marriage became legal in New York state. In the fantasies, he and Steve are in love, and Bucky goes down on one knee, and opens a velvet box with a simple ring, and Steve says yes immediately and pulls him to his feet and gives him a kiss that's even better than the one at the end of the Princess Bride. 

Steve isn't saying yes now. Steve is looking at him with an expression that's equal parts panic and horror.

"Bucky," Steve says. There's a warning in his voice, in his eyes, but Bucky doesn't back down. 

"I know you don't--" Bucky's throat closes up and he can't finish the sentence. He swallows and takes a breath and tries again. "I have good health insurance. Great, actually."

"What?" The look on Steve's face tells him he has no fucking clue what Bucky's talking about.

"Stark Industries has the best health insurance in the country. Gold standard. They cover everything. No co-pay, no deductible. Best friends aren't included, but spouses are." 

"I don't want you to make that sacrifice."

"It's not a sacrifice." Bucky takes Steve's hand in his. "Losing you, _that_ would be the sacrifice." He squeezes Steve's hand, and feels Steve tense in response.

"Bucky--" He doesn't know what Steve's going to say--knowing him, probably something stupid and self-sacrificing--but Bucky stops him cold.

"Let me do this, Steve. I _want_ to do this."

There's a long pause, during which Bucky holds his breath and Steve fumbles to put on his glasses and then stares at Bucky like he's found the mysteries of the universe in his eyes.

"Okay," Steve says, his voice so quiet it's not even a whisper. And that's when Bucky finally sees it.

Steve's scared. 

Until this moment, Bucky would have said that Steve Rogers has never been scared a moment in his life. He's taken on both bullies and heart surgery with a spitfire anger, but right now he's so scared that Bucky can feel his hand tremble.

"Okay," Bucky echoes back, and tries to keep his own hand from trembling. Because it hits him, the responsibility he's just taken on. Ever since that day when Steve had shown up in Ms. Beatty's class, Steve's always been the one to take the lead. Steve took on the bullies. Steve came out before anyone else they knew. Steve was Bucky's moral compass. And if Bucky's thrown a few punches (well, more than a few) at bullies over the years, he's done it because Steve's shown him that bullies have to be fought.

Now it's Bucky's turn to be the brave one, Bucky's turn to lead.

"Leave it to me," Bucky says. "I'll handle everything."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky arranges a wedding with a little (okay, a lot of) help from his sister.

The first thing Bucky does is take the doctor out into the hall.

"How long do I have to do this?" he asks. "How long does Steve have?"

"I can't tell-"

"Guess," he says. Then, more gently, "Please."

"More than 48 hours. Less than a week. Probably. We can stabilize his condition, but if we don't do more soon..." She doesn't finish the thought. She doesn't have to.

"What does he need, exactly?"

"Short term, an LVAD. A left ventricular assistance device. It's a pump surgically implanted to assist his heart. But it won't work forever, and the shape Steve's heart is in, it won't work for long. Long term, he needs a heart transplant. Which means he needs to be lucky enough for a compatible donor to come up, and strong enough to survive the procedure. And even then, he'll need to be on medication to stop rejection of the heart for the rest of his life. It won't be easy."

"That's okay," Bucky says. "Steve's tougher than he looks." Steve's tougher than anyone he knows. He's stubborn enough to have survived when _they_ had said he'd be dead years ago. Bucky will do everything he can to make sure he outlives them all. 

"Okay." Two days. He'll give himself two days to plan and pull off a fake wedding and get Steve on his health insurance, all while trying not to fall to pieces because Steve, his best friend, the man he loves most in the world, is dying. No problem.

"You would really do this for him?" The woman's name tag says Doctor Afolabie, and she manages the feat of looking both imposing and nurturing.

"I would. Steve's an amazing guy, and he means the world to me."

She gives him a look, then, like she can see inside his head, inside his heart. Like she knows what Steve _really_ means to him. But she doesn't call him on it, just gives his arm a quick squeeze of encouragement.

"Then, I wish you the best."

The next thing Bucky does is calls Becks. Because he might have asked Steve to leave this to him, but he's got no idea how to arrange a wedding.

"Hey Bucky," his sister says. "What's--"

"Steve's in the hospital and he's probably dying and he needs a heart transplant and he doesn't have enough health insurance to cover it, so I'm going to marry him and put him on my Stark insurance, and I've got no fucking clue where to start." The words come out of him in a panicked torrent.

"First of all, big brother, take a deep breath."

He does, and then he realizes he's called Becks in the middle of the day.

"Shit, you're not in class, are you?"

"Nope. I'm in the dorm, working on a problem set." Becks is even smarter than he is, and managed a full ride scholarship to Columbia. Winnie Barnes blames her two engineering offspring on her husband. George Barnes isn't an engineer, but he runs his own garage and had both kids helping out with oil changes when they were only in grade school. Winnie is a history major who edits text books and doesn't know a carburetor from a jet engine. 

"Wait. Did you say Steve's dying?!"

"Yeah." He stops and takes another breath. "He collapsed. His heart's failing."

"Aw, jeez." Becks loves Steve almost as much as he does, and Steve loves her like a sister. She followed him around like a puppy for the first ten years of her life, and they're still close. Steve drops by her dorm for coffee whenever a job takes him near Columbia. "That sucks."

"I'm not going to let him go, Becks," he says. "I just can't."

"Then let's see what we need to do." It's a mark of how close they are that Becks doesn't even question his crazy scheme to marry Steve for health insurance. He can hear the click of her keyboard over the phone. "Okay, you can do the initial application for a marriage license online. That's good. But, shit, both of you need to go to the office to pick up the license. Could Steve make it downtown?"

Bucky thinks about Steve, small and tired and surrounded by all that equipment.

"No way." A whine of panic starts buzzing in his mind.

"And you have to wait 24 hours to actually get married. Can Steve wait 24 hours?"

"I don't think so." _This isn't going to work_ , Bucky starts thinking, over and over, his downward spiral nearly making him miss Becks' next words.

"Wait, it looks like you can get a judicial waiver on the 24 hours. And a friend of mine has a sister who works in City Clerk's Office. Let me see what she can do."

Becks hangs up, and Bucky spends the next half an hour back at Steve's bedside, trying to calm his own panic as he watches over Steve's fitful sleep. He holds Steve's hand, trying not to let his own shake, and strokes his forehead any time he jerks awake.

When Becks calls back, Bucky answers as soon as his phone starts to ring. He moves out into the hall so he won't wake Steve.

"Okay, you're in luck. The Manhattan City Clerk's office is staffed by a bunch of softies. When they heard what you're doing, they were all fighting to be the ones to deliver the license. I'll fill in the form for you, and someone from the office is going to cab it up to the hospital to bring you the license. I'm going to run over to get you a judicial waiver."

"You're the best little sister I've got." Bucky feels a wave of love for Becks crest over him.

"I'm the only little sister you've got. But I appreciate the sentiment." She pauses. "Listen, this isn't some elaborate scheme to finally get you a date with Steve, is it? It's a little extreme, even for you."

"Becks!" 

"I know how you feel about him. How you've always felt. And trust me, I get it. Steve's the best. I just want to make sure you know why you're doing this."

"He'll--" he tries to explain, but his throat closes up on him and won't let the words out. He swallows around the lump in his throat and blinks back the prickling in his eyes, then tries again. "He'll die if I don't do this, Becks. Once he's better, we'll do whatever he wants. We'll get a divorce. But I just--" He pauses to swallow again. "I can't let him die."

Becks doesn't say anything for the longest time. All Bucky can hear is her breathing at the other end of the line. He fights to keep his own breathing steady, to stop the hitching in his throat.

"I'm sorry, big brother. Let's do this, and get Steve all fixed up." She sounds ready to hang up, but then asks one more question. "Who do you want for your officiant?"

"My what?"

"Shit, you really are useless, Buck. The person who's going to perform the ceremony."

"Fuck." Bucky's been so focused on Steve that's he hasn't thought any of this through. "Can't we just get a Justice of the Peace?"

"I know it's a fake wedding, but it would be nice if someone who knew you both did the ceremony. You should call Rabbi Mendelsohn. He's always liked Steve. You probably didn't notice, but at your bar mitzvah, Steve cornered him for an hour and asked him all sorts of boring questions about the ceremony. Rabbi Mendelsohn loved it."

Bucky bet he had. The rabbi had despaired of Bucky when he was getting ready for his bar mitzvah. Bucky had done the bare minimum to get through the ceremony and had had no interest in attending temple since. Steve and his endless curiosity must have been a nice change. But Steve was Catholic, not Jewish.

"Why not Father Gregory?"

"Not that _you'd_ notice, but Steve hasn't been back to church since his mom died. Get Rabbi Mendelsohn."

"Rabbi Mendelsohn will just tell Mom."

"You can't _not_ tell Mom." Becks' tone is insistent. "She loves Steve. She'll want to know."

"She'll want to know that her bi son is going to fake marry his best friend for health insurance?"

"She'll want to know Steve is sick, you moron. And I bet Rabbi Mendelsohn will do it. It's a mitzvah."

"Fake marrying me to a goy is a mitzvah?"

" _Saving his life_ is. God, Bucky. You're hopeless. Tell you what. _I'll_ call Rabbi Mendelsohn. He always did like me best."

"That's just because you still go to temple. Mostly."

"Hey, a Rabbi's gotta have standards. Seriously, though. Look after Steve. I'll handle everything else."

"Okay."

So, the rest of the afternoon he stays by Steve's side. Gets him water when he wants, calls the nurse when he needs help, talks to him about movies, about art, about working with Tony Stark, about anything except his failing heart. Then, as daylight fades from the window, there's a commotion outside the room and Becks appears at the door, with three strangers and a nurse trailing behind.

"You're not all allowed in here," the nurse says. "Two visitors per patient. Max."

"They're not visitors," Becks says. "Are you visitors?" she asks the strangers.

"We are representatives of the Manhattan City Clerk's Office, and we're here on official business," says the nearest one, a twenty-something young man in a fedora and a pea coat.

The nurse sniffs, but a second member of the City Clerks brigade, a slightly older woman with purple hair and Doc Martens boots, produces a thick cream envelope with the seal of the city embossed in the corner.

"So, if you could give us some privacy..." says the third City Clerk, a woman who must be approaching retirement age, in cat's eye glasses and a puffy pink parka.

The nurse sniffs again, but she leaves them alone.

Steve stirs from his sleep and tries to sit up when he sees his visitors. Bucky raises the head of his bed, passes him his glasses, and plumps his pillows for him.

"Do you have it?" Bucky asks, excited and nervous all at once.

Doc Martens pulls the license out of the envelope with a flourish.

"We just need to see your IDs," Glasses says. Fedora checks their IDs against the information on the print out he's holding and nods his approval.

"Congratulations," Doc Martens says.

"Mazel tov," Fedora says.

"Good luck, honey," Glasses says, and reaches out to give Steve's wrist a pat.

"I can't thank you enough," Bucky says, overwhelmed that three strangers would do this for them.

"Honestly, this is the most fun I've had at the Clerk's Office in, like, forever," says Doc Martens. The other two clerks nod, and then they all give Bucky an enthusiastic group hug, and disappear out the door so quickly Bucky's left wondering if they weren't a hallucination caused by extreme stress. Except a hallucination wouldn't have been able to produce the license he's holding in his hand.

"I've got the waiver," Becks says, pulling an official-looking piece of paper out of her knapsack. "So, you can get married as soon as you want."

"Thanks, Becks." Steve's voice hasn't gone much above a whisper since Bucky arrived at the hospital.

"That's not all," Becks says. She reaches into another pouch of her knapsack and pulls out a small green velvet bag with a ribbon for a drawstring, passing it to Bucky.

"What's this?"

"The rings, stupid." Becks looks at him like she can't believe she's got such a dummy for a brother. Bucky opens and tips the bag, and two green glass rings pour into his palm. "I picked them up in Chinatown. Because you've gotta have rings. And these ones may be cheap, but they're also pretty."

Steve holds out his hand, and Bucky gingerly passes him a ring. Steve holds it up to the dying light from the window, his eyes blinking behind the lenses of his glasses. The ring's mottled jade green sparkles in the dimming room. Bucky has never thought about what kind of wedding ring he'd buy for Steve, but if he had (he totally hasn't) it would not have been this delicate band of green glass. But in some ways, it's even better than the band of white gold in a velvet box he totally hasn't thought about before.

"It's perfect, Becks," Steve says, and that's the first smile Bucky's seen on his face since he arrived here.

"You did good, little sister." Bucky puts an arm around her shoulder and gives her a quick squeeze.

"That's not all I did. I called Rabbi Mendelsohn. I was straight with him about why you're doing this, and he's on board. He'll be here at 7:00 to perform the little-bit-Jewish-little-bit-goyish ceremony. His words, not mine. You're lucky our temple is Reform, Steve. The rabbi has always been okay with mixed marriages."

Becks takes a breath and continues with the outline of her plans.

"The hospital is letting us use the chapel. The chaplain said they even have a portable chuppah stuck in a closet that he's going to set up for us. Assuming we can get Steve there." She frowns and looks at Steve, like she's suddenly realized how frail he is.

"I'll make it," Steve says, every ounce of fight he still has in his voice. "They've got mobile oxygen tanks for a reason."

"Good." Becks turns back to her brother. "Mom's coming."

Bucky bites his lip and stares down to where his hand holds Steve.

"What did she say?"

"I'm not going to repeat everything, because she was at least a little bit hysterical at first--she's worried about Steve--but she wants to be here."

"How about Dad?"

"Dad's stuck at work. One of the taxi fleets brought every car in for an oil change and he's gotta pitch in. He knows you're on the clock so he said to tell you mazel tov."

Bucky clutches the velvet bag in his hand and feels tears well up in his eyes. Not for the first time, he's grateful for his family. Grateful that they'll support him no matter what.

"Thanks, little sister." He clutches her in a fierce hug and isn't sure he'll be able to let go.

"You're welcome, big brother." Becks pats his back and digs her chin into his shoulder like she always does when they hug. Then she slowly peels out of his arms and turns to Steve. "I can't wait to have you as my brother-in-law." She puts a hand on his shoulder, her touch delicate, as if she's not sure if he'll break.

"You'll make the best sister-in-law," Steve says, and pats her hand

"Okay," Becks says, dropping her knapsack and rubbing her hands together. "I'm going to get to work." She's always been bossy. Almost as bossy as Steve. It's no wonder they like each other.

Becks disappears out of the room to "arrange things." When she comes back, she has flowers from the gift shop downstairs for both of them—daisies for Steve; baby roses for Bucky—she's scoped out the chapel, and she's had a text from Rabbi Mendelsohn confirming he's on the way. When she leaves to talk to the nurses about getting Steve down to the chapel for the ceremony, Bucky feels a sudden need to be closer to Steve. He drops the rail on the side of his bed and sits on the side.

Bucky takes Steve's hand in his, threading their fingers together.

"Are you doing okay? With all of this?" Bucky concentrates on the way Steve's hand looks, the ragged cuticles, the oil paint that he never quite manages to get out from under his nails, so he doesn't have to see the expression on his face.

"I should be asking you that, you big jerk." Steve squeezes his hand. "I still can't quite believe you're doing this for me."

"I'd do a lot more than marry you to keep you alive, you dumb punk," Bucky says. He wants to keep things light, but he chooses that moment to look up back at Steve. There's a flash of something in Steve's eyes, an emotion that Bucky can't quite define. But then Steve blinks, those long lashes of his distracting Bucky, and the flash is gone. 

"Well, at least it'll make a good story," Steve says, nudging him weakly with his knee.

"Don't tell me you went into heart failure just so you'd have a good story," Bucky says, mock outrage pushing out all the other things he's feeling.

"Ya got me," Steve says, and it's good to see him laugh, to see him not look quite so small and grey. "I collapsed in the middle of a client meeting and scared the crap out of the guy who was gonna hire me just so we'd have a good story."

"I knew it."

Bucky gets Steve to scootch over and stretches out beside him. If he ignores all of the wires and tubes, it's just like when they were kids, sleeping over at each other's houses, squished together in one twin bed. All they need are Star Wars sheets beneath them and Transformers posters on the wall.

Bucky feels himself relax for the first time since his phone rang this afternoon, pushes away the sounds of the hospital, the beeps and squeaks and sounds of nurses in the hall, concentrating only on how good it is to be here with Steve.

His eyes have drifted shut and he's almost asleep when he feels Steve's grip on his hand tighten.

"Bucky?"

"Yeah?" He opens his eyes, and Steve is looking at him. That flash of _something_ is there in his eyes again.

"I--"

There's a rustling in the door, and then Bucky's mom is sweeping into the room, with Becks right behind her, and whatever Steve was going to say is gone in the rush of Winifred Barnes' affection.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, and a big thank you to everyone who left kudos and comments on the first chapter.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I am my beloved's and my beloved is mine."

The rest of the evening passes in a blur.

Bucky's mom fusses over Steve. She's brought matzo ball soup from their favourite deli, and a pair of slippers Bucky thinks might belong to his dad and that are just a bit too big for Steve. 

"And I brought these." She reaches into the clothing bag she'd hung on the back of the door and pulls out two suit jackets, one electric green, the other an eye-popping pink. Bucky had worn them to family weddings in his teen years, when he'd mistakenly thought poor fashion choices were hilarious.

"Mom!"

"Well, Steve can't get married in a hospital gown, and I thought you two might like to match."

"I don't think those colours match so much as violently disagree with each other, Winnie," Steve says, but he's got a crooked smile on his face. At least the ugly jackets have taken Steve's mind off his heart troubles for a moment.

"They'll be fine." His mom reaches out and smooths down a stray strand of Steve's hair. "I just want this to be nice for you both."

Bucky nearly points out that there's nothing nice about this situation. That they're doing this to save Steve's life, not to win design points for their fake wedding, but that would be cruel. For everyone. Instead, he reaches out and gives her a hug.

"Thanks, Mom. I think."

When she lets him go, his mom pulls one last thing out of the clothing bag.

"I brought this, too." It's Bucky's tallit. He doesn't think he's even thought about it since his bar mitzvah, but it makes his throat clench up with emotion. His mom caring enough about this wedding, about Steve, to make sure Bucky wears his tallit to it means more to him than he thought it would.

He's spared any further drama by the arrival of one of the nurses. Nurse Reyes, a big Filipino guy, has brought a wheelchair with an IV pole on the back of it, a portable oxygen tank, and portable oxygen and heart monitors. He gets Steve unhooked from one set of wires and hooked up to the new ones, and then eases him into the chair with the monitors resting in his lap. 

"I'm going to be watching that number," Reyes says, pointing at the oxygen monitor. "If your sats level drops below 90, we're heading back to the room." They all nod dutifully. Reyes is friendly, but projects the air of someone not to be messed with.

Once Steve is comfortable, Winnie helps him shrug into the awful pink jacket without dislodging the IV in the back of his hand.

Becks shoves the green jacket at Bucky, and he puts it on with a grumble he doesn't mean. He'd wear the worst fashion nightmare on the planet for the sake of helping Steve. For the honour of _marrying_ Steve, for all that it's a fake wedding. He carefully wraps the tallit around himself, mumbling his way through the half-remembered prayer that accompanies the action.

They're all ready to go when Rabbi Mendelsohn arrives at the room. Though he's younger than Winnie, he's been their Rabbi ever since Bucky can remember, and he's always been supportive of the gay members of the temple congregation. He was holding commitment ceremonies for same sex couples long before gay marriage was legalized, and the day it _was_ legalized, he kept the temple open late and held five ceremonies in a row. So, Bucky knows he won't have any trouble with marrying two men. But marrying him and Steve... Becks said she was straight with the rabbi, but how much did she tell him? That the wedding is for health insurance? That it's _only_ for the health insurance? But Bucky's not going to be the one to say anything and ruin Steve's chances of getting the treatment he needs.

"James!" Rabbi Mendelsohn's booming voice takes up the whole room. "Steve! I'm so glad you've chosen me to share this special day with you. Even if it's not under ideal circumstances."

"Thank you, Rabbi," they both say.

"You're welcome. Rebecca has explained to me why you needed to speed up your engagement and go straight to the marriage, and I'll do anything I can to help." So, Becks wasn't totally straight about the fake part of the wedding. 

He pauses and looks at Steve, and Bucky sees him noticing exactly how frail Steve is. 

"We'll do a short version of the ceremony. I don't think we need the ketubah."

"Ketubah?" Steve frowns at him.

"It's a marriage contract," Bucky tells him. "It gives my responsibilities to you."

"Only if you're assuming you're the husband, big brother," Becks says with a laugh.

"It's not _just_ a contract," Rabbi Mendelsohn says, giving both Barnes siblings a stern look. "But I do usually give Interfaith couples the option of using it or not."

"I think we can do without it," Steve says. His voice is weak enough that Bucky's happy to limit the amount he has to say.

"Are we holding the ceremony here?" Rabbi Mendelsohn asks.

"I've reserved the chapel," Becks says. "They've got a chuppah. The chaplain promised me he'd have it set up for us."

"Fantastic." Rabbi Mendelsohn claps his hands together and grins. "Are you all ready to go?"

They troop through the halls of the hospital, a scarecrow parade. The rabbi leads, Nurse Reyes pushes Steve in the wheelchair, Bucky pulls along the portable oxygen tank on wheels beside him, and Becks and Winnie take up the rear.

When they arrive at the chapel, the rabbi produces two yarmulkes from his pocket for Steve and Bucky, Becks gives them the bouquets she's been holding, and they all proceed to the front.

The chuppah is a rickety thing that looks to Bucky like it'll fall over if you breathe on it funny, and there's no veiled bride, just two grooms with bouquets, but the ceremony is very much like every family wedding Bucky's ever been to. Since Steve can hardly do it, Bucky circles Steve, but only three times. (He knows Becks will tease that it makes him the wife, but he doesn't care.) 

Rabbi Mendelsohn produces a cup of wine for the betrothal blessings, which they each take a sip from. The sweetness of the wine takes Bucky back to holidays shared with his family, and he realizes that Steve is there in all of those memories. 

Then Becks takes their bouquets from them and it's time for their vows.

Rabbi Mendelsohn first takes Bucky through the Jewish vows, and he feels his throat tighten as he says the familiar words: " Behold, you are consecrated to me, with this ring, according to the tradition of Moses and Israel."

Becks passes him the ring, and as he places it on Steve's finger, he can feel Steve's hands trembling as much as his own.

Bucky almost forgets what comes next, until Rabbi Mendelsohn leads Steve through the response: "I am my beloved's and my beloved is mine." Steve's smile is bright as he places Bucky's ring on his finger, giving Bucky's hand a squeeze as he finishes.

After the rings, Rabbi Mendelsohn leads Steve through the gentile vows, and Bucky finds himself actually listening to the words as Steve says them, words that until this moment have been no more than audible wallpaper in all the rom coms Becks has forced him to watch over the years.

"I, Steven Grant Rogers, take you, James Buchanan Barnes, to be my lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do us part." Bucky feels a prickling in his throat at those last words: _until death do us part._ They seem ominous here, spoken by a man who told Bucky hours ago that he was dying. But he tries not to show anything but happiness, keeping his eyes on Steve throughout his vows.

The way Steve looks, as brave and true and _alive_ as he had the very first day they'd met, guts Bucky so completely that he barely registers when Rabbi Mendelsohn says the Sheva B'rachot, the seven blessings. He doesn't miss the next thing he says, though. 

"You may now kiss your husband." 

Bucky has a moment of panic. He really hasn't been thinking through anything this day, hasn't thought about having to kiss his best friend, having to kiss _Steve_ in front of Becks and his mom and Rabbi Mendelsohn. But before he can panic and do anything stupid, Steve grabs his hand and pulls him down.

Steve's lips are chapped and rough, and Bucky can feel the beginnings of stubble on his face, but it doesn't make the kiss any less electric for Bucky, any less important. He lets the kiss linger for longer than he should, considering this isn't a real wedding, and Steve isn't really in love with him, but he can't help himself. And when he finally does pull back, Steve looks...happy. Steve looks really happy, even with the oxygen cannula in his nose and the ugly pink jacket over his crappy hospital gown that doesn't quite close in the back.

He's still thinking about how happy Steve looks when his mom pulls out a silk drawstring bag Bucky recognizes from his cousin David's wedding. The bag holds a glass for them to break. Steve raises a slipper-shod foot with a determined look on his face, and then he and Bucky shatter the glass satisfyingly under their feet.

"Mazel tov!" everyone shouts, even Nurse Reyes who's been hanging a few pews back. Then Becks and Reyes sign the marriage license as witnesses.

"And now, we will give the couple a few moments together," Rabbi Mendelsohn says, waving everyone else out of the chapel.

Bucky had almost forgotten about that part. The Yichud. The first moment of privacy for a newly married couple.

As the doors close behind the others, Steve is still holding his hand, still smiling up at Bucky.

"Mazel tov, Mr. Barnes Rogers," Steve says.

"Mazel tov, Mr. Rogers Barnes," Bucky replies.

"I know--" Steve starts to say, then stops, the sunshine in his face dimming slightly. He squeezes Bucky's hand and pulls him down to sit in the front pew, so Bucky's no longer looming over him. "I know we're only doing this for practical reasons. But this was nice. I couldn't have asked for a better fake wedding. Or a kinder fake husband."

"I--" Bucky stumbles, thinking that he could do it. He could tell Steve how he really feels right now. Tell him that this hadn't felt like a fake wedding to him. Tell him he wants to be more than Steve's fake husband.

He looks at Steve, gazes into those shining blue eyes, takes a deep breath, and opens his mouth.

And he can't do it.

If this were one of Becks' rom coms, he would confess his love, and Steve would confess it was returned, and Steve would get his transplant, and they'd all live happily ever after. But this isn't a rom com. Steve doesn't love him, not as more than a best friend, anyway. If he tells Steve he loves him, things will get awkward, and Steve might feel a stupid sense of obligation to him, and he'll lose this sense of peace they have right now. He might even lose Steve's friendship. He can't do that.

So, he smiles a smile that suddenly feels fake, and squeezes Steve's hand back, and says "I couldn't ask for a better fake wedding, or a braver fake husband." And that's close enough to how he really feels that tears threaten to prickle his eyes.

Steve only smiles wider, then nudges him with his foot.

"We should get out of here," he says. "I'm sure Nurse Reyes will be happier once I'm in my room."

"I'm sure you're right." When Bucky had glanced back in the chapel at the end of the ceremony, Nurse Reyes _had_ seemed a little twitchy. "Let's get you out of here."

Steve holds the handle of the oxygen tank, and Bucky pushes him down the aisle, then out into the corridor where everyone is waiting for them. Becks and Winnie both hug them, Rabbi Mendelsohn shakes both their hands, and even Nurse Reyes pats them both of the shoulder before he takes over the wheelchair from Bucky.

They might be in a hospital, and Steve might be sicker than he's ever been, but right at this moment Bucky is as content as he's ever been.

The six of them troop back through the hospital the way they'd come, down halls and up the elevator. They're three doors down from Steve's room, when Steve reaches out his hand to Bucky. Bucky takes it without thinking.

He looks over at Steve, expecting to see a smile. Instead, Steve is frowning at him, a divot between his eyebrows like he gets when he's struggling with a painting, trying to figure out where the foreshortening went wrong or how he can fix the light source.

He opens his mouth to ask what's wrong, but he doesn't get a single word out before the oxygen monitor in Steve's lap starts beeping furiously and Steve topples forward and crumples to the floor.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve's getting worse. Bucky tries to sign him up for health insurance. Tony Stark helps out.

"I don't think you understand how important this is."

Bucky stands in front of the benefits coordinator for Stark Industries, clutching a photocopy of his marriage license, still overwhelmed by the panic that's been sparking under his skin and roiling in his gut since Steve collapsed last night.

It had been one thing when he got the phone call that Steve had collapsed, to theoretically know it had happened. It had been quite another to see it happen in front of him, to feel Steve's hand go limp in his grasp, to see his skin go even greyer and his eyes roll back in his head. To see him crumple to the ground like a Goddamn ragdoll.

For a frozen moment, Bucky had thought that this was it, that Steve was dead, that everything he'd been fighting to stop had happened. But then Nurse Reyes had pulled off the portable monitors, scooped up Steve in his arms, called for his colleagues, and yelled back at Bucky to get the IV bag and the oxygen tank, before rushing Steve into his room, Bucky trailing behind him. 

Reyes had taken the IV bag and oxygen tank from Bucky, and then pushed him from the room as the rest of the nursing staff and Dr. Afolabie had rushed in. Bucky had stood there, paralyzed with fear as he listened to them work on Steve.

He'd bent down to pick up Steve's glasses, and his eye had been caught by a glitter of green on the floor. He bent to find Steve's wedding ring, snapped in half on the floor. In a fugue, he reached out for it, gently placing the pieces in the velvet bag that had ended up in his pocket. A distant, not-at-all-panicked part of his brain thought about taking off his own ring. After all, it wasn't a _real_ wedding; they weren't _really_ married. But he couldn't do it. It was a comfort, having that band of cool, smooth glass on his finger, knowing Steve had put it there.

At some point, one of the nurses came out and talked to them, saying things that Bucky couldn't understand and herding them all to the patient lounge down the hall. Bucky's legs had given out under him and he sat in a hard, plastic chair, with Becks on one side of him, and his mother on the other. Rabbi Mendelsohn had hovered nearby, fetching coffee and offering comfort to them all. He even gathered them all around and recited the _Mi Sheberakh_ , the prayer for someone who is ill, for Steve. Outside of the occasional high holiday, Bucky may not have been to temple for years, but even he took consolation from the rabbi's deep voice calling for Steve's healing.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, Dr. Afolabie had appeared, telling them that Steve was out of danger for now, that his blood pressure had dropped dangerously, but they'd upped the dosage of vasopressors he was on and stabilized it. That Steve was confined to his bed until they could get him an LVAD unit. 

Winnie had cried at the news, and Becks had buried her face in Bucky's chest, but Bucky had just felt numb until he'd been allowed back in Steve's room, had been allowed to see him, sleeping as comfortably as was possible in a bed that wasn't his own, with a heart that was rapidly failing him. Then he'd collapsed in his mother's arms and wept like he was five years old again.

When the hospital had kicked them out of the room, he'd let Winnie take him home, sleeping in his childhood bedroom for the first time in years, unwilling to go to his own apartment when Steve wasn't there.

He'd woken up this morning to find his mother had made his favourite breakfast, pancakes and turkey bacon, and Becks had gone to his place to pick him up several changes of clothes. 

"Becks told me the wedding is only for health insurance," his mom had told him over breakfast. "But I'm glad you're there for Steve." She'd kissed the top of his head. "And I'm sure Sarah would be happy you're there for him, too."

Bucky had swallowed his pancakes around a lump in his throat and given his mom a long hug. Then he'd showered and changed and headed to Stark Tower with the photocopy of his marriage license that Rabbi Mendelsohn had somehow had the presence of mind to make for him last night.

And, now things are going even worse than they had last night.

"I can only add a spouse to your benefits once I have the actual certificate of marriage, not a facsimile of your license," says the coordinator, a young woman in a pantsuit that looks like it belongs on someone twenty years older. "And even with the certificate, there's a two-month waiting period to add a spouse to your plan."

"My rabbi told me it always takes at least 20 days to get your marriage certificate from the city, and that's on a good day. Steve can't wait 20 days, and he really can't wait two months." He swallows back on his panic. "He'll be dead in a week," he blurts out. His plan was supposed to save Steve. Never mind that it was impulsive and he hadn't done any prior research on either the laws on New York marriages or Stark Industries' benefits policies. He isn't going to let Steve die. He takes a deep breath and lets his thumb play over the glass ring on his finger, letting its presence calm him.

"I'm sorry, but I don't make the rules, Mr. Barnes." The coordinator doesn't look sorry at all.

"Please," Bucky says, willing to beg, willing to do anything to save Steve. But he's interrupted when the woman startles and straightens in her seat, her eyes going wide as she looks at someone behind Bucky. "Good morning, Mr. Stark! We weren't expecting you."

Bucky turns, and finds Tony Stark striding into the HR offices in what Bucky is pretty sure is the same AC/DC t-shirt he'd seen him in yesterday morning when he came to check on the battery project.

"Is it morning, Janet? No, that's not it." Tony Stark snaps his fingers. "Janella! And I wasn't expecting me either. Pepper called and told me to meet her in HR, that she wants my input on some new policy. So, I'll pretend to listen to her and then I'll agree to whatever she thinks is best. And hey, how are you doing Barnes?" Stark claps one hand on his shoulder. "Great work on that solar battery design. Wilson gave it to me yesterday, and I've been up all night tweaking the details. And hey, how's your friend? Wilson told me you had a sick friend."

"Fiancé," Bucky blurts out. He hates people who exploit a connection to get what they want, but right now he's completely willing to be that person, and fuck his principles if it'll save Steve. "Steve was my fiancé, and now he's my husband, and he's not well, and I need him on my health insurance right away, but Janella here tells me there's a two-month waiting period."

Janella's expression goes from professionally pleasant to pissed-off-but-trying-to-hide-it-from-the-boss, but Bucky doesn't care. He'll piss off everyone in Stark Industries, including Tony Stark, if it means saving Steve.

"We have a waiting period?" Stark frowns at Janella. "Why do we have a waiting period?"

"It's a rule, Mr. Stark," Janella says, folding her hands primly in front of her.

"Well, it doesn't sound like a very good rule. I set up private insurance to give my employees the best health plan that exists so they, and all their family members would be covered by it. Right away. Not after a waiting period."

Janella looks flustered, and Bucky feels a little sorry for her. But only a little.

"And hey, guess what? My name's the one on the company and the insurance, so ultimately, I can make all the rules. And I'm making a new rule: no waiting periods."

"But--"

"No waiting periods, not for anyone. So, anyone who has family in the waiting period, they get health insurance. Right now. Starting with my friend, James Barnes right here."

Bucky sees one last flare of resistance in Janella's eyes, and Stark must see it, too, because he leans right in to her.

"You'll handle it, right Janella? Getting the husband of _my friend_ and employee, James Barnes signed up for health insurance today. So, he can tell me everything's good when he meets with me this afternoon." He turns to Bucky. "You get all this paperwork straightened away and I want to talk to you about the solar battery this afternoon."

"Yes, Mr. Stark." Janella's smile is as fake as they come, but Stark doesn't let that faze him at all.

"Great!" He leans in and gives her a pat on the shoulder. "I'll have Pepper review all our HR files, say in a week? Make sure all waiting periods have been waived."

"Absolutely, Mr. Stark. I'll have the records waiting for her." And Bucky has to hand it to her, Janella gets right with the program when she realizes her rules have changed. She doesn't even look _that_ resentful.

"Nice talking to you, Barnes. I hope your man is feeling better soon." And then Stark is breezing back into the warren of offices that makes up SI's HR department.

Bucky smiles, and Janella sighs and starts pulling forms out of the credenza above her desk.

Forty-five minutes later, Bucky emerges from Stark Tower with proof of health insurance for Steven Grant Rogers. Traffic is slightly less insane than it was yesterday, and he's slightly less frantic, so he hails a yellow cab and is at the hospital's payment office in just over half an hour. It doesn't take long to give them Steve's new insurance details, so he's back at Steve's side soon after.

"Hey, if it isn't my fake husband," Steve says as Bucky walks into his room. He doesn't have his glasses on and blinks owlishly at Bucky, and if his voice is weaker than usual, Bucky's not going to say anything.

"Your fake husband who's got you all signed up for health insurance," Bucky says.

"My hero," Steve says, and reaches out a hand to him. Bucky doesn't hesitate. He drops the rail of Steve's bed, takes his hand, and settles into the bed with him. Not because they're fake married. But because this is Steve, and this is how they are together.

"You're _my_ hero," Bucky says, and though his tone may be sarcastic, he absolutely means it. Steve, however, is having none of it and gives him a weak punch to the arm.

Steve reaches out to grab hold of Bucky's left hand, and his thumb rolls over the green glass on Bucky's finger.

"Hey," Steve says. "You're still wearing the ring."

" Um. Yeah, well. I kinda like it."

Steve pulls back slightly and gives him a look like he's the biggest idiot on the planet.

"You're gonna have trouble hooking up with a wedding ring on your finger."

"I'm not interested in hooking up with anyone while my fake husband is in hospital." Bucky maintains a mocking tone, but he's absolutely telling the truth. 

"Jerk." Steve nudges him with an elbow and gives him a smirk.

"Punk." Bucky nudges him back.

And that's it. That's all it takes to make Bucky feel like everything is right with the world. Steve must feel it too, because they can't stop smiling at each other.

When Dr. Afolabie comes by on rounds half an hour later, she gives them a raised eyebrow, but Steve just shrugs.

"Okay," Bucky says as he slides out of the bed. "Steve's got insurance. We're ready. What's the next step?"


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam Wilson finds out about the fake wedding. Steve goes for surgery.

The next step for Steve is surgery, which means lots of pre-op tests and questions and scans.

A nurse comes in to draw about a million tubes of blood out of Steve's arm, and then Bucky and Steve spend an hour filling out multiple forms that ask about every ailment and illness and condition that Steve's ever had.

"It's kinda depressing, seeing this all written out in one place," Steve says, waving one page with a list of the medications he's been on."

"I don't know," Bucky says. "It's kinda impressive. I mean, if you were badass enough to get over all of this shit, you're more than badass enough to survive this heart failure thing."

Steve snorts, but he grins under the oxygen cannula and he seems more like himself than he has since Bucky arrived at the hospital yesterday.

Around the time a cart arrives with Steve's lunch, Bucky's phone chimes, and he finds a notification for a meeting about his solar battery design with Tony Stark at 4:00. His first reaction is surprise that Stark has actually followed through on his promise to meet with him. Stark's a busy man, and Bucky's been warned he operates more on impulse than a carefully coordinated plan. That's why he put Ms. Potts in charge of the running of the company. 

His second reaction is nerves. Stark has regularly visited the lab Bucky shares with Sam Wilson and two other junior engineers, and he clearly knows who Bucky is, but he's Tony Fucking Stark, for fuck's sake. This morning, Bucky was far too panicked about Steve to worry that he was badgering one of the richest, and smartest, people on the planet, but now he starts hoping he didn't come across as a complete jerk.

His third, and final, reaction is gratitude. He'll be able to thank Stark in person for saving Steve's life, and that's worth any nervousness. He punches his phone and accepts the notification.

While Steve's eating, Bucky goes down to the cafeteria and grabs a limp corned beef sandwich for his own lunch, and when he comes back, Steve has progressed from filling out forms to being wheeled out for the series of pre-operative scans Dr. Afolabie had laid out this morning. After last night's collapse, they're not risking putting him back in a wheelchair. Instead, an orderly is pushing Steve's bed out of the room, complete with IV poles and an oxygen tank stuck underneath.

"I was hoping you'd be back in time," Steve says. "Danilo is taking me to the cath lab." Danilo, it turns out, is Nurse Reyes' second cousin, and he's put himself in charge of making sure Steve has everything he needs.

"Can I come with?" Bucky asks.

"Can he?" Steve says, turning to Danilo.

"Sure, man," Danilo says before he leaves. "Just don't get in anyone's way."

Bucky is polite and unobtrusive while the nice doctor in the cath lab cuts open a vein in Steve's thigh, pushes a thin tube all the way to his heart, and then just sits there for an hour while they measure the blood flow in each of his heart's chambers.

It seems more like torture than medicine to Bucky, but Steve barely flinches when the tube goes in so it must not hurt.

Danilo re-appears when the test is over, and this time he pushes Steve down corridors and into elevators until they reach the imaging department.

"Echocardiogram next," Danilo says.

Bucky works his charm again, and convinces the technician to let him stay with Steve during this test. The technician, a middle-aged woman who introduces herself as Anne, props Steve up on the exam table.

"I'm going to put some warm gel on your chest."

"Is it really warm?" Steve asks. "'Cause they always say it's warm and it never really is." 

"Okay, it's warm-ish."

"I hope it's more warm than ish."

Anne laughs, and so does Bucky. Steve's heart may be failing him, but he can still be a charming little shit.

Anne dims the lights and spends the next hour looking at Steve's heart on a black and white monitor. The image looks like it's made out of static, and Bucky's not a doctor, but even he can see that Steve's heart isn't working the way it should.

By the time Anne is finished, Steve is starting to look grey and tired again, and Bucky takes Steve's hand without even thinking about it.

"Home again?" he asks Danilo when he appears.

"Home again," Danilo agrees as he moves Steve back onto his bed. "If that's what you're calling his room."

Bucky walks beside Steve, not letting go of his hand as Danilo pushes Steve through the hallways of the hospital. It's not until they reach the quiet of Steve's room that Bucky finally realizes that the beep he's been hearing for the past who knows how long wasn't from the echocardiogram set up, or a stray piece of equipment they've passed in the hall. It's his phone. He pulls it out of his pocket, and sees the reminder about his 4 o'clock meeting with Stark, and a ton of increasingly desperate texts from Sam.

_where R U?_

_did you forget the meeting?_

_stark is here. this battery is yr baby. you can explain it better than me._

_c'mon, man. don't leave me here alone w strk._

_now he wants to debate classic rock v. rap._

_i am not the one to explain kendrick lamar to tony stark._

_he's making me listen to ac/dc now._

_i do not get paid enough for this shit._

_where the f RU??????_.

The last text was at 4:31. It's 4:32.

He forgot about the meeting. He forgot about a meeting with Tony Stark.

"Shit."

If he's very lucky, Stark won't fire him for being an irresponsible and tardy asshole and take away the health insurance that's supposed to save Steve's life. And Sam won't kill him for having to deal with Tony Stark solo for over half an hour.

He needs to leave. But he turns to Steve, looking tired and small as Danilo hooks him back up to the room's oxygen and plugs him into the machines that have surrounded him the last day, and the last thing he wants to do is leave him alone.

"What is it?" Steve asks.

"Nothing."

"I know it's not nothing, you asshole." Steve looks as cross as you can when you're stuck in a hospital bed, suffering from heart failure.

"I'm sort of late for a meeting with Tony Stark."

"Your boss, Tony Stark? Billionaire Tony Stark? _That_ Tony Stark?"

"Yeah, but-"

"Why are you still here?" Steve asks. "Get yourself in a cab and get to the office."

"But--"

"But nothing. Isn't he the guy who got me my health insurance?"

"Yeah."

"Then he gets to request your presence. Go."

"You'll be okay?"

"I'm not okay." Steve shakes the hand that's attached to both the IV line and an oxygen monitor. "But I promise not to get worse."

That's not at all comforting, but at least Steve's not lying to him about being fine. Bucky always knows things are bad when Steve starts lying to him about being fine.

"Okay, punk. I'm going to hold you to that."

_on my way,_ he texts Sam from the elevator. _sorry_

_thank fuck for that_ Sam sends back.

He hails a cab and promises the driver double the fair if he gets him to Stark Tower in twenty minutes. The guy manages it in 19. When he arrives at the lab he shares with Sam, Tony Stark is pontificating about why AC/DC is superior to Black Sabbath. From the look on Sam's face, this has been going for some time.

"Oh, hey!" Stark says when he sees Bucky. "Glad you could join us." And thankfully, he manages not to make that sound sarcastic.

"I'm really sorry. I got stuck at the hospital. They were doing a bunch of tests on Steve."

"How _is_ the husband?" Stark asks, giving Bucky two quick punches on the shoulder.

"Husband?" Bucky didn't know Sam's voice could go that high.

"Yeah, husband," Stark says. "Didn't Barnes tell you? His fiancé was having some health problems so they bumped up the wedding date to yesterday so he could get on the health insurance that Barnes' frankly fantastic employer provides. Did I mention that _I_ am that fantastic employer?"

Bucky has never been so grateful that Stark seems to perpetually have his head up in ass, so their boss misses the shocked look on Sam's face, and the way he mouths "husband?" at Bucky every time Stark's back is turned.

Somehow, he manages to ignore Sam's distractions and get through a description of the solar battery, and to take in some of the (admittedly brilliant) changes Stark's made to the design, without having a complete meltdown.

"Give your hubby my best," Stark says when they're done and he's leaving the lab. "I'll send flowers or something." 

As soon as the door slides shut on Stark, Sam turns on him.

"What the fuck, man?" Sam says.

"That went better than expected," Bucky says, hoping Sam will drop the whole husband thing. He checks his watch. Dr. Afolabie had said she'd come by at 7 to let them know what the plan was for the next few days. He's got an hour to get back to the hospital. "I've gotta get going," he says, and starts to leave the lab.

"N'uh uh," Sam says, and grabs his arm before he can make his escape. "Before you go anywhere, you're going to buy me a coffee, or maybe a double tequila, and explain how your best friend Steve is suddenly your husband."

Bucky decides the truth is the only thing that's going to get him free.

"He's dying, Sam."

Sam's hold on him loosens, and his eyes widen in shock.

"Not, like, right now," Bucky clarifies, not that it makes the situation that much better. "But his heart is failing."

"Do you have to get back right away?" Sam asks, suddenly

"I've got a bit of time."

"Then we're getting tequila," Sam says, giving Bucky a quick hug before he pulls back. "And that double just became a triple."

Sam grabs both their jackets and steers Bucky out of the tower and to the first place outside of the Tower that looks like it'll serve tequila. Which turns out to be a bar crawling with commuters waiting for their trains with a drink or three. They grab a dimly lit booth near the back where the crappy piped-in music isn't too loud. Sam follows through on his threat and orders two triple tequilas, and Bucky tells him about Steve collapsing and what the doctor said and how Steve's lousy insurance plan wouldn't cover the treatment that would save his life.

"So, faced with your best friend dying on you, the first thing you thought of was that you should get married?"

"What else was I supposed to do, Sam? I tried offering to pay the hospital bills, but Steve knows I don't have that kind of money. A transplant, that's going to be expensive."

"You're married," Sam says, mostly to himself, as if he's trying to wrap his brain around this fact. "Man, you two are going to have one fucked up story to tell your grandkids," Sam says, then slams back the rest of his tequila.

"There aren't going to be any grandkids, Sam. It's a fake marriage. Plus, in case you haven't noticed, we're both guys."

"My cousin Danny and his husband have two kids. Adopted. And I've seen the way you look when you talk about Steve. Not to mention this." Sam grabs his left hand and looks pointedly at the ring that's still on his finger. "That doesn't look so fake to me."

"Yeah, well." Bucky pulls his hand back and takes a swallow of tequila. "It's fake to Steve, and I ain't telling him any different."

"Huh," Sam says with a shrug, but he doesn't argue any further.

Bucky checks his phone. There's no message from the hospital, and he still has an hour until the meeting with Dr. Afolabie, but he's feeling the pull to get back to Steve.

"I gotta go, Sam. The doctor's coming to talk to Steve about what comes next. I wanna be there."

"Of course, man." Sam shoos him out of the booth. "You go be there for your fake husband." Bucky frowns at him, but Sam doesn't look at all sorry. He looks like a Goddamn smug asshole.

But once Bucky has shrugged on his coat, Sam grabs his arm, his expression gone suddenly serious. "Listen, man, all joking aside, let me know if you need anything. Chicken noodle soup. Shoulder to cry on. More tequila. Anything." Bucky feels himself choke up a bit at the offer.

"Thanks, Sam."

Sam gives him a quick hug, and then Bucky's out on the street. He beats some asshole business man to a cab, and sits staring at the Hudson River as the driver heads up the West Side Parkway. Since he and Sam left the Tower, a light snowfall has started, flakes drifting calmly to the ground. 

Bucky tries to quell the part of himself that's in a panic to get back to Steve, and concentrate on how the streetlights glittering off the snow makes even the view of Fucking Jersey look almost pretty. He almost succeeds.

* * *

The next 24 hours pass in a blur of meetings and adrenaline. They meet with Dr. Afolabie, who takes them through the test results and tells them they'll go ahead with the surgery in a day, after they've gotten Steve's heart a bit more stable. They meet with the surgeon, Dr. Neelands, a steady man with prematurely grey hair who describes how he'll attach the pump to Steve's heart. They meet with the anaesthetist, who explains how they'll be putting Steve in a coma after the surgery until they're sure he'll be able to breathe on his own. They meet with a stream of therapists—respiratory, occupational, and physical—who explain the recovery process and how they'll teach Steve to live with the pump. 

Through it all, all the meetings, all the stress, Bucky tries to keep calm, to take in all the information they'll need, to take notes on the things they'll need to know, to make sure he's there for Steve.

The night before the surgery, Bucky sits with Steve, talking about Bucky's job and Steve's art and what their friends are up to and how Becks is doing in her classes, and anything but the fact that in the morning a doctor is going to cut Steve open and attach a machine to his heart to keep him alive. 

"You should go home," Steve finally says after he's yawned for the tenth time. "Sleep in a real bed."

"I don't want to leave you alone," Bucky says, and it's nothing more than the truth. He doesn't want to let Steve out of his sight, afraid of what might happen to Steve while he's not in the hospital.

"I'll be fine. I'm just going to sleep. And so should you."

Bucky takes a deep breath and reaches out to squeeze Steve's hand. 

"I'll be back in the morning," he says.

"You don't have to—"

"I'll be back in the morning," Bucky repeats, cutting off any self-sacrificing bullshit Steve might try to sell him. "Stark sent me a text, told me to take as much time off as I need."

"Look at you, getting texts from Tony Stark."

"It would be less impressive if you knew the guy," Bucky says. 

"I doubt it," Steve says, and Bucky lets it go.

Bucky gives Steve a hug, tells the nurses to call if anything happens, and then takes the train back to Brooklyn.

He doesn't go home. Not to their home, anyway. He bundles up against the cold and goes back to his parents' place for the third night in a row. He lets his mom make him hot cocoa and sits quietly at the kitchen table with her while he drinks it.

"Steve will be fine, boychik," she says, and pats his hand. He hopes she's right.

He doesn't sleep that night, staring at the yellowing Wu Tang Clan and Beastie Boys posters on his old bedroom wall until a dim grey light starts seeping into the room.

He gets up before his parents and makes it to the hospital before sunrise. He's not surprised to find Steve already awake. He looks like he's slept about as much as Bucky has, his glasses only partially hiding the circles under his eyes, and looking even more wraith-like than he has the past few days. Bucky suddenly wishes he'd stayed the night here. The room's lone chair might have more in common with medieval torture devices than furniture, but at least he'd have been with Steve.

"How you doin'?" he asks, and Steve gives him a smile that he can tell is 99% fake. He can feel a matching expression on his own face.

"You know. Ready to run a marathon, if only they'd take all these tubes outta me."

"If you think this is a lot of tubes," says Nurse Reyes as he walks into the room, "Just you wait. We're going to put tubes places you never thought could have tubes."

"Thanks a lot, pal," Bucky says. He doesn't want to think about Steve with even more tubes sticking out of him, but at least if Reyes is joking about it, it won't be that bad. Will it?

"I'm just saying, you're going to have to wait a bit to consummate your marriage, if you know what I mean."

"Dude!" Bucky says.

Steve laughs, even if he does go a bit pink.

"You can catch a little thrill now, though." He holds up the tray in his hands. "I've got to shave your husband's chest before surgery."

"Great," Steve says with a wince. "I finally grow some chest hair and now you're going to shave it all off."

"Hey, some guys pay to have their chest waxed. I'm doing yours for free."

"You're not making me feel better, Reyes."

Reyes smiles at him and sets to work, keeping Steve distracted with a series of stories about his extended family and gossip about the other nurses on the floor. Bucky keeps hold of Steve's hand through the whole thing.

After Reyes finishes up and gets Steve back into his gown, he turns to Bucky, his eyes suddenly going soft.

"We've got to take him down to surgery," he tells Bucky. "I can show you where the family waiting room is."

"Thanks," Bucky says, feeling a wave of panic wash over him now that the time is really here. He feels a tremor run through Steve's hand.

"Can you give us a minute?" Steve asks. Reyes made him take off his glasses, so Bucky can clearly see the fear lurking at the corners of his eyes.

"Sure," Reyes says. "Just ring for me when you're done."

Steve waits until Reyes is out of the room, and then he grips Bucky's hand even more tightly and looks him dead in the eye. Bucky recognizes the expression. It's the same one he gets when he's facing down a bully, determination and readiness for a fight all mixed together.

"If I don't make it…" Steve starts to say.

Bucky feels the air punch out of him. He reaches out with his free hand and grips Steve's shoulder.

"Of course, you're going to make it," Bucky says, refusing to think of a world without Steve. A world where _they_ were finally right. "You're the toughest guy I know. You're not going to let a little operation—"

"Stop," Steve says, resting his other hand gently on Bucky's. "Let me say this." He stops and swallows and takes a deep breath. "If I don't make it, I want you to know that having you in my life has been the best thing that's ever happened to me. You're my best friend, and I wouldn't want to be fake married to anyone else in the world."

He feels his heart clench and his stomach flutter, and he takes Steve in a gentle hug, careful of all the tubes and wires surrounding his body. He buries his face in Steve's shoulder, hoping his friend hasn't noticed the tears in his eyes.

"I love you so much, Steve," Bucky says, the words slipping out before he can rein them back in. But Steve doesn't so much as flinch at the confession.

"I love you, too," he says, returning Bucky's embrace with all the strength that's left him, clutching at his shoulder so hard that Bucky thinks he might leave a bruise.

Bucky knows that Steve doesn't mean the words the same way he does, that Steve's love for him is brotherly, not romantic, but right at this moment it doesn't matter. It only matters that they both know how much they mean to each other.

Steve's the one who breaks off the hug first, reaching out to press the call button.

"Okay," he says when Nurse Reyes comes back to the room. "Let's get this show on the road."

Steve puts his glasses on the night stand, and then Reyes and an orderly Bucky hasn't seen before take charge of wheeling Steve down to the surgical floor, sorting the tubes and wires and oxygen tank. Bucky follows behind them through winding corridors, standing beside Steve's bed when they use one of the extra-large hospital-sized elevators. He gives Steve's hand one last squeeze when Reyes shows him where the family waiting room is.

"Don't give them any trouble, punk," he tells Steve. If he doesn't keep things light now he knows he's going to start crying for sure.

"You're the one who always causes trouble, jerk," Steve says, such a bald-faced lie that it surprises a laugh out of Bucky's throat.

Bucky waits at the door of the waiting room, watching until Steve's bed disappears around a corner. Then he finds a seat in the corner of the room, slightly away from all the other concerned-looking people who fill the room, and clenches his hands together.

It's been years since he's gone to temple for anything but weddings, funerals or the occasional high holiday, but he finds himself thinking back to services from his childhood, the rustling of the congregation and the soaring voice of the cantor. He thinks back to Rabbi Mendelsohn sitting with them after Steve had collapsed, saying the _Mi Sheberakh_. He stares down at the glass ring still on his finger, the promise of something he desperately wishes he could have, and he feels his mouth forming words he hadn't even realized he remembered.

"May the One who blessed our ancestors bless and heal the one who is ill, Steve, son of Sarah…"  
He repeats the words over and over, imploring the God of his people to intercede on the behalf of one skinny goy.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve has his surgery. Bucky stays by his side.

The surgery takes four hours. For all of those four hours, Bucky sits in the waiting room with a group of other anxious people, all of them looking up nervously when anyone comes to the door, hoping for news about their family member.

After four hours, Dr. Neelands shows up in the waiting room, his expression professional and impassive.

"The surgery took a bit longer than we were hoping," he tells Bucky. "But Steve is responding well. They're taking him up to the cardiac ICU now."

"Can I see him?"

"Not right away," Dr. Neelands says firmly. "Give them an hour to get him settled. Go have lunch. Go for a walk. I'll let them know they can expect you."

Bucky can't bring himself to leave the hospital, but he does go down to the food court and buys himself a limp slice of pizza and a Coke. The pizza tastes like soggy cardboard and he ends up leaving it half-finished on his tray.

An hour after he talks to the surgeon, almost to the second, he makes his way to the cardiac ICU. Nurse Highsmith, a middle-aged black woman with the air of someone who will not put up with your nonsense, is waiting for him.

"Dr. Neelands told me to expect you," she says as she starts leading him down the corridor. "He said you'd want to sit with your husband. But it's my job to keep him alive, so I need you to understand our rules."

"Yes, ma'am," he says, feeling like he's back in grade school and Ms. Beatty is about to tell him not to eat the white glue.

"If we need to check on him, you back off and let us do our job. If he looks like he's having trouble breathing, you hit the call button then back off and let us do our job. If we ask you to leave--"

"I back off and let you do your job," Bucky says.

"Your mamma did a god job raising you, Mr. Barnes."

"I'll tell her you said that, ma'am."

"Call me Esther," she says with a snort.

"Call me Bucky."

"Well, Bucky," she says as they reach a door at the end of the hall. "Here's your man." She leads him into Steve's room.

It's not so much a room as a glass pod. Three other pods surround a nursing station, glass walls giving the illusion of privacy while providing a clear view of the patients to the two nurses in the centre. Bucky is overwhelmed by the sheer amount of equipment in the area, beeping machines and flashing displays. 

It takes him a minute to register Steve, and when he finally does, he sees that Reyes was right: Steve's got more tubes and wires sticking out of him than before. He's got a tube down his throat to breathe for him. He's got tubes in his chest to drain fluids out. He's got IV lines in his hand for drugs and fluids. He's got a tube in his dick so he can pee. And he's got a fucking power cord coming out of his side, the drive line that powers the pump keeping him alive.

Bucky would give anything to hear Steve make a joke about the tubes in his dick, about being electric powered, but Steve isn't saying anything. They're keeping him knocked out until he's strong enough to be taken off the ventilator.

Steve looks so fucking small, with all the tubes and wires and his hair sticking up and the monster dressing from where they cut his fucking chest open, that Bucky feels all the air punched out of his chest. He stands there, frozen, completely unsure what he should do.

He finally feels hands on his shoulder, pushing him toward the lone chair tucked beside the bed. 

"I know it doesn't look like it, but he's doing okay," Esther says, as he plunks down hard in the chair. "You let him know you're here." Then she retreats to the nursing station, leaving him alone with Steve.

"Hey, you punk," he says, trying desperately to keep his voice steady, to sound like he's just stopped by to see if Steve wants to go for a beer or catch a movie. "Everyone says you're doing okay, so I guess you must be. He reaches out and takes hold of the hand that doesn't have an IV in it, trying not to notice how delicate the bones of Steve's long fingers feel. "I can't wait to hear your stupid voice."

He stays beside Steve all afternoon, sometimes talking, sometimes not, unconsciously matching his own breathing to the rhythm of the ventilator moving air in and out of Steve's lungs. Esther and the other nurses come in at regular intervals to take Steve's vitals, adjust the machines keeping him alive, and check on the flow of drugs keeping him unconscious until they're sure he can breathe on his own. Bucky follows their orders absolutely, backing off and letting them do their job.

He works hard on keeping on the good side of Esther and the nursing staff. He goes out of his way to get them coffee from the Starbucks on the main floor when he hears them complaining about how awful the coffee in the nurses' break room is. He even asks if he can bring them back anything when they shoo him out of the room to go get himself some dinner. He gets another piece of cardboard pizza and manages to choke down all of it this time.

"I wasn't sure about you," Esther tells him when he gets back to the ward. "But you're all right, Bucky."

Dr. Neelands comes by in the early evening to check on Steve. He's still in surgical scrubs and Bucky knows without asking that he's been in the operating theatre all day. His expression is grimly satisfied when he checks Steve's chart, and he gives Bucky a tight smile.

"Is he okay?" Bucky asks before he can vanish down the hall.

"So far, so good," Neelands says, and if it's not the most comforting of phrases, at least he hasn't told Bucky there's anything wrong. "We'll keep him on the ventilator for now, but we'll try taking him off it tomorrow afternoon."

"That's good, right?"

"That's good," Neelands assures him.

They don't let him stay the night, so just after 10 Bucky makes the trek back to Brooklyn, back to his parents' home, back to more hot cocoa with his mom. He's up before sunrise again, and this time his mom gets up with him.

"I'll make you eggs," she tells him.

"You don't have to, Mom."

"Tell me you're eating well at that hospital and I won't bother." 

He doesn't say anything. He's never been able to lie to his mom.

"I thought so," Winnie Barnes says, and then starts cracking eggs into a bowl.

The eggs have more taste than any of the hospital food he's tried, the coffee his mom brews for him is perfect, and the hug she gives him before he heads for the subway station is absolutely necessary.

When Bucky arrives at the hospital, Steve is exactly as he left him: surrounded by tubes, unconscious, with the ventilator still breathing for him, and he falls back into the routine of the ICU.

It's mid-morning when things change. 

Steve starts to shift in the bed, just slightly, the sort of movements you might make in your sleep.

"You're okay, Stevie," Bucky says, rubbing his arm lightly, hoping that Steve can hear him from wherever the drugs have taken him.

Steve settles for a few minutes, but just as Bucky feels his shoulders relaxing, he moves again, and the movement is anything but slight. He flails both arms, nearly catching Bucky in the head.

"Steve!" 

Bucky ducks and almost misses what Steve does next. Which is to reach out with the hand that doesn't have the IV stuck in it and grab the tube going down his throat. The tube that's helping him breathe.

"Stevie! No! You can't--"

Bucky grabs Steve's hand before he can tear the tube out. In response, Steve flails with his other arm, and this time he does catch Bucky in the side of the head. Bucky's head rings, and he wonders how someone still drugged and unconscious can have that much strength behind them.

He tries to reach for the call button, but he doesn't have to. Esther and another nurse have seen what's happening and burst into Steve's pod. Esther doesn't have to say a word to Bucky. As soon as they have Steve under control, he backs off and leaves them to do their job. He waits in the corridor, sliding down the wall until his butt hits the floor, his heart beating fast, his hands shaking.

After what feels like forever, Esther comes back into the hall. She crouches down beside him and puts a hand lightly on his shoulder.

"He's okay," she says.

He has to blink a few times before he can focus on her properly. For some reason she looks blurry.

"But he—"

"He tried to pull out the breathing tube. It happens. It's a horrible feeling, having that thing down your throat, even if you're sedated, and some patients finally have enough of it."

"Yeah, well, that sounds like Steve." He means to be funny, but it doesn't come out that way at all.

"I can't wait to meet your Steve when he's not unconscious," Esther says with a slight smile.

"So, what happens next?"

"We've restrained his hands." 

"You've tied him up." Bucky flinches at that.

"I know it sounds awful, but it's the best option," Esther tells him. "Increasing the sedation is dangerous, and it might not even work."

"But he's uncomfortable?"

"I'm not going to lie to you, Bucky. Yes, he's uncomfortable. And he's going to keep being uncomfortable. But we need him to rest his lungs as long as possible, to give them a chance to recover from the surgery."

"For how long?"

"A few more hours. Dr. Neelands wanted to wait until this afternoon before we try removing the tube. We've sent him a message about what's happened, but I think he'll want to stick to the original plan. It'll give Steve the best chance to avoid complications with his lungs."

"You gotta avoid complications with Steve's lungs," Bucky says sincerely. He still has too vivid memories of the two times Steve ended up with pneumonia when they were kids. He'd pop by the Rogers house after school with whatever homework he'd picked up for Steve, and sit with him while he coughed up gross gunk from his lungs. "What can I do?"

"Talk to him. Read to him. Try and keep him calm. He may not look like it, but he can hear your voice, on some level at least. Knowing you're with him will help."

"Okay." He takes a deep breath. He can do this. He'll do anything for Steve.

So, he goes into the room and talks to Steve. He tells him he's okay, that he's doing great, that he'll be fine. When Steve pulls at the restraints, Bucky holds his hand, rubs his arm. When Bucky runs out of things to say, he pulls out his phone, downloads The Hobbit and starts reading it to him. (Steve always did love that damn book, and he seems to quiet while Bucky's reading the story of Bilbo and the dwarves. Bucky's always liked The Lord of the Rings more.)

It's hard seeing Steve this way, his arms restrained by leather straps lined with thick, soft padding, struggling to get free. But being Steve must be a million times harder.

Somehow, Bucky makes it all the way through to lunch time.

"Go get something to eat," Esther tells him the next time she comes to check on Steve.

"I'm not hungry," he says.

"Then go for a walk." Esther's voice becomes steelier.

"I thought you wanted me to keep him calm? I can't do that if I'm going for a walk."

"Bucky," Esther sighs. "Dr. Neelands is coming in a few minutes. We're going to start the process for taking the tube out."

"That's great!" Bucky feels like that's the best news he's heard since Steve went in for surgery. He's not sure why Esther's so clearly trying to get rid of him.

"It is. But it's nothing you want to see."

"Oh." His brief elation drops, and all sorts of horrific scenarios play out in his imagination. 

"Go for a walk, Bucky." Esther's voice stops his horrible fantasies. "Look after yourself for an hour, and I'll text you when he's ready for you."

Bucky leaves the room without another word.

He wanders the halls, venturing down to the food court where he briefly contemplates yet another piece of cardboard pizza. But that's more than he can stomach, so he tries a saran-wrapped muffin that tastes like it's made from sawdust.

He walks some more, finally settling in an uncomfortable hard plastic seat in the hospital lobby. He pulls out his phone, checking to see if there's a message from Esther yet. Without thinking about it, he dials Becks.

"Bucky?" Becks says, her voice sounding concerned. There's a hum of other voices around her. "Is everything okay? Is Steve okay?"

"Yeah," Bucky says. "He's okay. Listen I didn't call at a bad time, did I?"

"Nah, I'm just finishing lunch in the dining hall." He hears her walking and the noise around her fades. "Are you still at the hospital?"

"Yeah. They kicked me out of Steve's room for a bit. They were going to take his breathing tube out and the nurse told me it wasn't something I should see." Bucky feels his throat close up on those last words and he hopes Becks hasn't noticed. He should know better.

"Oh, Bucky. I'm sorry."

"It's okay, Becks. I'm okay."

"You're not, but you will be. And so will Steve."

"I hope so."

"You know Steve. He's a fighter. He'll fight this as hard as he fought the bullies in grade school."

"You didn't see him, Becks." Bucky's voice has gone to a whisper. "He looks so small with all these tubes and equipment. And he has a power cord coming out of him now, for the heart pump."

"I hate to break it to you, big brother, but Steve's always been pretty fucking small. But hey, now he's a small cyborg."

Bucky knows Becks is trying to cheer him up, but he can't even crack a smile.

"Do you want me to come up there?" she asks after a minute of silence that Bucky has no idea how to fill.

"No," he says with a sigh. "There's nothing really for you to do."

"I could look after my big brother."

"Your big brother can look after himself."

"Uh-huh," Becks says, sounding completely unconvinced.

"I _can_ ," he insists.

"You keep telling yourself that," she says.

"You're a brat, Rebecca Barnes." He knows what she's doing, sassing him out of a black mood, but it works anyway.

"Yes, I am. And I'm also late for class. Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah. You go on."

"Okay. But I'm coming by tonight to see you both."

"Thanks, Becks."

He settles back into his seat, feeling some of the tension in his shoulders start to uncoil and the fluttering in his stomach start to calm. It's only a few minutes later that his phone finally buzzes.

_You can come back now_ Esther has texted him. He wastes no time in hustling to the elevator. When he gets to the cardiac floor, Esther is waiting for him in the hall, her face impassive.

"How is he?" he asks.

"Good," she says immediately. "We still have him sedated, and he's on non-invasive ventilation, but he's doing well."

She leads him back into Steve's pod. The horrible tube is gone from his throat, replaced by a mask held securely over his mouth and nose. That one change is enough to transform Steve. He no longer seems quite so small and vulnerable, and his skin has a healthy pink glow that's a marked improvement from the alarming grey it was before the surgery.

"You sit yourself down and watch over your man. And make sure he doesn't pull that mask off," Esther says before she returns to the nursing station.

Bucky follows her directions. He watches over Steve, holding his hand whenever he gets restless. He reads some more of The Hobbit. He talks to Dr. Neelands, who tells him that Steve's breathing seems strong and they're going to start cutting back on his sedation.

It's nearly 6:00 when Steve starts to shift and pull his hand out of Bucky's. Bucky steels himself to stop Steve from pulling off his ventilation mask, but instead he watches as Steve's eyelids start to flicker, his long lashes fluttering against his cheek. 

Bucky leans toward him as Steve opens his eyes, the blue somehow even more vivid than Bucky's noticed before. 

"You back with us, Stevie?" Bucky runs a hand through Steve's hair, and tries not to read too much into it when Steve leans into his touch. 

Without his glasses on, Bucky can see Steve's eyes clearly as he blinks blearily, like he's trying to clear the drugs out of his system. He squeezes his eyes tightly shut before he opens them again. 

"Buck," Steve croaks out, his voice sounding exactly like he's had a tube stuck down his throat for the better part of the last two days.

"There you are," Bucky says, more relieved than he'd expected that Steve is awake and on this side of lucid.

He lets Steve pull the ventilation mask away long enough to take a couple of sips of the water Esther left the last time she'd been in to check Steve. The woman herself arrives just as Bucky is settling the mask back into place. She introduces herself to Steve, then checks his vitals and his breathing before busying herself inspecting all the machines he's hooked up to. Bucky approves of the way she treats Steve now that he's awake. She's gentle but firm, kind without being at all cloying. She explains everything she's doing and tells him what he can expect in the next day or so.

She's also an interfering busybody.

"Your husband here has been a peach," she tells Steve once she's checked the last machine and smoothed his blankets back into place. "You should keep him."

"I will," Steve says, and he looks at him with the sort of utter sincerity that has Bucky ready to marry him all over again, only this time for real and forever and not just because Steve needs health insurance. He has to take a deep breath and remind himself that Steve doesn't really mean it, not like _that_. Has to tell himself that Steve is high as a fucking kite on whatever drugs they've given him to keep him from feeling the sort of pain that only comes from having your fucking chest cracked open.

But before Bucky can say anything embarrassing or incriminating, Steve's eyelids are already fluttering closed.

Bucky can't help it. He leans forward, brushes back Steve's hair, and drops a kiss onto his forehead.

"Sleep easy," he whispers to Steve. "I'll be here when you wake up."

He runs his hands through Steve's hair until his brow smooths out. When he finally looks up, Esther is giving him a look that is entirely too perceptive.

"Young love," she says in the same tone she might have used to call him an idiot. "Ain't it a kick in the teeth?"

"Yeah," he finally says. "Ain't it?"


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve begins his recovery. Becks comes for a visit.

They keep Steve in cardiac ICU another 24 hours, until they're sure his lungs are recovered enough that they can take him off the ventilation mask in favour of regular oxygen. 

Bucky spends the whole 24 hours worrying about Steve and waiting for him to give him shit about that kiss. Steve doesn't say a word about it, just tells Bucky to "knock it off" every time he gives him a concerned look. That alone tells Bucky that Steve is starting to feel better. 

By the time Esther arrives to help Steve get ready for the move back to the regular cardiac ward, he's got himself convinced that Steve was too doped up to remember the kiss, thank god.

After Esther has checked all Steve's tubes and unhooked him from the machines and hooked him up to a portable oxygen tank, she hugs both Steve and Bucky.

"Look after him," she orders Bucky.

"I will," he says.

"I don't need looking after," Steve insists, the oxygen mask slightly muffling his voice. "I'm fine." The sedation has cleared his system and his fight is coming back even if his strength hasn't.

"Is he always like this?" Esther asks Bucky.

"Yep," Bucky says, unable to keep a grin off his face.

"You have my sympathy," she says with a twinkle in her eye, before turning to Steve. "And you, promise me you won't do anything stupid."

"I never do anything stupid," Steve says, looking as innocent as only a giant fucking liar can.

"That's not what his sister told me." Esther looks Steve dead in the eye. Bucky's glad that he's not on the receiving end of that stare and curious about what the hell Becks told Esther when she came to visit last night. 

"I never do anything _too_ stupid." Steve corrects himself, sticking his chin out defiantly. 

Esther raises an eyebrow at him, and Steve has the good sense to finally back down.

"I promise," he says, sounding like a sulky toddler.

Nurse Reyes is waiting for Steve on the cardiac ward, in a private room that's full of balloons and flowers, with a giant Get Well card covered in rainbows and glitter stuck in the corner.

"I'm pretty sure my insurance doesn't cover a private room," Bucky says, hoping a hospital mistake isn't going to put him into debt.

"Apparently it does if you know Tony Stark," Reyes says, giving Bucky a disappointed look as he passes Steve his glasses. "That monstrosity of a card is signed by Stark and he called the hospital administrator personally to make sure his friend's husband got the best room on the ward. Why didn't you tell me you're friends with Tony Stark?" Bucky didn't know Reyes could sound quite so betrayed.

"I'm not friends with him. I barely _know_ him," Bucky says. "He's my boss. Or, more like my boss's boss."

"Does he know your name?" Reyes asks him, deadpan.

"Um, yeah?"

"Then you know him, at least," Reyes says with a confident nod. Bucky decides not to argue further. Which is a good thing when Tony Stark himself shows up a few hours later. Reyes shows Stark to Steve's room, and then aims an eloquently raised eyebrow at Bucky when Stark's back is turned. Bucky can't do anything more than shrug helplessly.

"Barnes!" Stark says. He's wearing what must be a designer suit with a classic rock t-shirt, and manages to fill the room with the full force of his considerable personality with no apparent effort. "And you must be Steve, the husband. How are you doing?"

"Fine, Mr. Stark."

"Call me Tony," Stark says. "Both of you should call me Tony. Barnes, I guess I should call you James."

Bucky nearly chokes. Stark is always casual at the office, but he can't quite wrap his head around calling the head of Stark Industries Tony.

"So, I was stuck in the most boring board meeting in the world, and looking for a reason to get out, and I thought why don't I go check up on the room the hospital gave James' husband? Makes sure he's getting the right care and that everything got delivered, and oh, wow, that card looked way less huge when I was signing it for my assistant. It's sort of obnoxious. You can get rid of it if you want. In fact, you should totally—"

"I love the card," Steve blurts out, stopping Stark in his tracks. And Bucky knows from experience that it's almost impossible to stop Stark when he's on a verbal roll, though Sam's come the closest. "It's the ugliest thing in the world, but it made me smile."

"That's…great!" Stark stops short and gives Steve an appraising look. "I think."

"Steve's a graphic designer," Bucky explains. "And a total snob about it."

"If I was _that_ much of a snob I wouldn't love the card. Which I do. So, thanks. For the card, and the insurance, and, um, everything." That's more than Steve's said all at once since he woke up from surgery, and he looks both breathless and awkward, as if he's just realized that he's talking to _Tony Stark_ , and he's called Stark's card ugly. 

"It was nothing. There shouldn't have been a waiting period on the insurance in the first place. James did me a favour, pointing that out." Stark moves a bit closer to Steve's bed and Bucky can see him taking in the equipment surrounding Steve and the power cord coming out of his side. "So, a left ventricular assistance device, huh? They using it as a bridge to transplant?"

"Yeah," Steve nods. "You know about hearts?"

"I may have a slight interest in heart transplants," Stark says with a smile. He taps his chest where the glow from his arc reactor shines through his Black Sabbath t-shirt. Of _course_ Stark has an interest in heart transplants. Everyone knows the man still has shrapnel threatening his heart from getting blown up by one of his own missiles at a Stark Industries weapons testing facilities. Bucky sees that pale blue light in his chest every time he runs into the guy, but he just doesn't _notice_ it anymore. "I keep up on the literature. Who's your surgeon?"

"Dr. Neelands," Steve tells him.

"He's one of the best," Stark says with a confident grin. He opens his mouth to speak again, but is interrupted by his phone talking to him.

"Excuse me, sir, but Ms. Potts is requesting your presence at the board meeting. The directors want to hold the vote on the capitalization of your next project and Ms. Potts doesn't want them to have any excuse to vote it down."

"On my way, J. Have Happy meet me downstairs."

Bucky has heard JARVIS, Stark's AI before, but Steve hasn't, and Bucky can see surprise and curiosity in his eyes.

"Sorry, gotta go. You take care, Steve. If you need anything, get your husband to text me. J, send James a message so he's got my details. Send it from the phone I actually answer." Bucky hears a chime from his phone almost immediately. "James, you take whatever time off you need to look after your husband. Wilson's got the battery design covered for now."

Before either of them can respond, Stark sweeps out of the room.

"Is he always like that?" Steve asks, looking a bit stunned.

"Pretty much." 

"Do you ever get used to it?"

"Not really." 

"Do you really have Tony Stark's personal phone number now?"

Bucky takes out his phone and there on the screen is a message from Tony's Stark. He holds it up so Steve can see it.

"Yep."

"Wow." 

Bucky has no answer for that—he's still wrapping his head around all the unexpected twists his life is taking—so he just sits down beside Steve and takes his hand without thinking. Steve squeezes his fingers, his grip so much stronger than it was even a few hours ago, and Bucky squeezes back.

* * *

For the next two weeks, Bucky shuttles between the hospital and his parents' house, getting to the point where he knows all the regulars on the early and late trains up to the top of Manhattan. In those two weeks, there always seems to be some sort of therapist in with Steve. 

The respiratory therapist shows Steve how he has to cough and blow into the incentive spirometer to keep his lungs from filling up with fluid.

The physical therapist shows Steve how to move without cracking his sternum open again (a horrifying possibility Bucky hadn't even considered but now makes occasional appearances in his nightmares), then slowly starts working on his strength, so he can sit, then stand, then walk.

Once he can walk a few steps, the occupational therapist shows Steve how to live with his LVAD: how to make sure the drive line powering the device doesn't get kinked; how to carry the battery that keeps the thing working; how to sleep with it plugged in to charge it up.

As soon as he can reliably walk, Reyes takes the tube out of his dick so he can finally "pee like a normal guy."

"You still have to pee in a bottle, though," Reyes warns him before his first trip to the bathroom. "We need to make sure what's going in is also coming out. There's a bottle by the bed, and one in the bathroom. And you two still need to wait to consummate the marriage." He winks at Bucky. "The OT can give you a few hints about managing _that_ with the drive line once Steve's ready."

Bucky feels his face burn. Even if he was going to have sex with Steve, which he's not, he would be mortified asking Steve's OT about it. Marlene is a sweet, bubbly woman in her sixties, with greying hair and a voice that reminds Bucky of his bubbe. His bubbe passed while he was in college, but there's no way he ever would have asked her for sex tips.

Steve's been on the cardiac ward for a week when Becks shows up for another visit, taking off her puffy parka and shaking light flakes of snow out of her hair.

"Hey, big brother." She gives Bucky a punch in the arm. "Hey, little brother-in-law." She takes more care with Steve, bending over him in his hospital bed and giving him a gentle hug.

"I'm older than you," Steve grouses, even as he gives Becks a big smile.

"But you're shorter." Becks ruffles his hair and sits down in the empty chair beside Bucky.

"You're only getting away with that because I'm stuck with all these tubes."

"You can tell yourself that." 

Bucky has never been so grateful to Becks. She treats Steve same as always, like an adopted older brother who's slightly less annoying than her biological one. She complains about her courses, offers to go down to the nursing station to get Steve an extra chocolate pudding to "fatten you up," and tells one joke, a stupid shaggy dog story that has the dumbest punch line Bucky's ever heard. The joke is a mistake. Steve starts laughing, but he stops after a few seconds, clutching his chest and looking bone white with pain.

Bucky hasn't seen Steve in this much pain and he feels the panic rising in his throat. He lunges for the call button, but Steve manages to grab his wrist and shake his head, even as his lips have thinned down with pain.

"Steve," Bucky says. "What the hell…"

"Fuck," Steve says, finally able to take a breath. "Laughing hurts. So. Much." He giggles, and then moans again. "No more jokes, Becks."

"No more jokes," Becks agrees, ruffling his hair. 

Even after the joke incident, Steve is more himself during Becks' visit than he's been since he collapsed. He may not be able to laugh, but he beams at Becks and clutches Bucky's hand and looks more determined than ever. 

Becks stays until the end of visiting hours. She gives Steve one last hug, tells him she'll visit again as soon as she gets her latest lab done, and then walks back to the subway with Bucky. She goes more serious once they're out of the hospital and on the darkened streets where snow is still lightly falling onto the pavement.

"How are you doing, big brother?" she asks, taking his elbow as they walk.

"I'm fine," Bucky answer automatically.

"How are you _really_?" Becks shakes his arm firmly.

"Worried about Steve." He shrugs. "Trying to take things one day at a time."

"I noticed you're still wearing your wedding ring." Becks takes hold of his left hand and pulls off its glove to reveal the green glass ring still sitting on his finger. He's nearly taken it off a few times, but he likes the feel of it. He's taken to spinning it when he's waiting for Steve to finish a therapy session or to wake up from a nap, the cool glass smooth under his touch.

"Feels like it would be bad luck to take it off."

"You should tell him," Becks says softly.

"Tell him what?" Maybe if he plays stupid, Becks will let this go.

"That you love him." She bumps into his shoulder. "That you've always loved him."

"I already did."

"Did you tell him that you're _in_ love with him?"

"I can't tell him _that_. Not now."

"If not now, when, Bucky?"

"How's that gonna play out, Becks?" He takes a deep breath. "If I tell him and he doesn't feel the same—"

"I bet he does," Becks interrupts him.

"But if he _doesn't_ …is he gonna feel obligated to me, feel like he has to pretend he cares about me?"

"He does care about you. He's your best friend, Bucky."

"My best friend. Not my boyfriend. Not my husband on anything but paper. And he's never given me a hint that he wants anything different."

"You haven't said anything to him, either."

"That's because I'm not good enough for him."

"You're an idiot," Becks says, giving him an exasperated punch in the arm. But she does drop the topic.

When they reach the subway station, she gives him one final hug before she peels off for the 1 platform.

"I know you're concentrating on looking after Steve," she says. "But you look after yourself, too, big brother."

"I will." Bucky gives her a big squeeze back. "Thanks, little sister."

He finds a seat on the C train, just down from a bunch of teenagers horsing around, and beside an older woman he sees most nights, on her way to what looks like a night janitorial job. He exchanges a friendly nod with her, then lets the clacking and jostling of the train lull his brain into something resembling quiet, and manages, somehow, not to worry about Steve for whole minutes at a time, even as he spins his green glass wedding ring around and around his finger.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George Barnes has a heart-to-heart talk with his son. Bucky goes back to work. And Steve gets ready to come home.

Two weeks after Becks' visit, Steve is managing short jaunts around the floor of the cardiac wing, his LVAD battery slung over his shoulder. He's finally off the oxygen, the IV is out of his hand, all but one of the drains in his chest has been removed, and he's beginning to walk less like an infirm old man and more like an infirm twenty-something. Bucky's going to take that as a win.

It's on one of his strolls that Steve turns to Bucky and tells him he should go back to work. 

"Are you sure?" Bucky asks.

He feels like a mother checking if her kid is ready to face kindergarten on his own.

"I'm sure." Steve actually rolls his eyes at him. "If I need anything, I can call for the nurses. Or even go to the nursing station!" Steve looks so pleased at the fact that he can now walk 20 feet down the hall by himself without nearly falling over that Bucky finally agrees.

When Bucky gets to Brooklyn that night, he finds his mom waiting for him at the kitchen table. Most nights she's there, galleys of the latest book she's working on spread out in front of her, ready to make him hot cocoa and discuss how Steve is doing.

"I'm going to go back to work," he tells her as he's sipping cocoa.

"What does Steve think about that?" his mother asks, her voice calm as she turns the page on the social studies textbook she's doing a final copy edit on. She's not fooling him one bit. She's as worried about Steve as he is.

"It was Steve's idea."

"Well, that's good." Her voice brightens.

"And I think I'm going to go back to our place."

Winifred Barnes frowns in a way he has long-since realized means she doesn't agree with something he's about to do.

"Are you sure, Bucky? Because we don't mind you staying here. It's been nice having you back, even if we don't see you that much." She reaches out and takes hold of his hand, her grip warm and comforting.

"It's been nice being here," Bucky says, squeezing her hand back. "But I feel like I'm visiting. It's not my home anymore. Not _our_ home." He reluctantly lets go of her hand and takes another sip of his cocoa so he has something to do. "I've got to clean up our place for when Steve's ready to come home. Air it out. Make sure the cactus isn't dead." 

"If you're sure," she says, then gives him a wry smile. "But don't leave because you feel you have to. We're here if you need us. If either of you need us. The marriage might be just on paper, but Steve's still family. He's been part of the family for a long time."

Bucky feels his throat go scratchy, feels his eyes prickle. He swallows a mouthful of cocoa, concentrating on the sweet and bitter on his tongue, and blinks a few times before he feels like he can safely speak.

"Thanks, Mom," he says, ignoring how choked off his voice sounds. "That means a lot."

His mom clears her throat in a way that's suspicious and wipes her own eyes, then starts clearing up the papers she's working on.

"Well, I'd better get to bed." She rinses out both their mugs, then drops a kiss onto the top of Bucky's head. "Sleep well, boychik."

"Thanks, Mom."

He does sleep well. And wakes with a vague memory of a dream of him and Steve and a picnic in Prospect Park that gives him a warm, sunny feeling in his chest.

He showers and packs up the clothes Becks had brought over for him, then clumps down the stairs to find his dad at the breakfast table, eating a bowl of cereal. 

He hasn't seen his dad much in the last few weeks. Running a garage gets George Barnes up early and keeps him at work late. Bucky only sees him briefly most days, if at all, when they're both too tired for more than a quick hello or good night. They haven't talked at all about Steve's heart or the fake wedding or anything. Now, his dad is looking at him like he has too much too say and no idea how to say it.

He gets along with his dad, but his mom has always been the one he's talked to. She met Steve first. Bucky came out to her first. He told her when he got his college acceptance letter and when he got the job with Stark Industries. His dad has always been supportive, but he's not a talker.

"Your mother tells me you're going back to your place."

"Yeah." Bucky fills his own bowl of cereal—Captain Crunch, and that's a clear sign that his mom is worried about him; she hardly ever let him have "that sugary shit" for breakfast when he was a kid and still only buys it for special occasions—and pulls up a chair across from his dad. "Steve's getting better, and he thinks I should get back to work."

"You don't have to leave," his dad says quickly. "We like having you here."

"I know. Mom said that, too." Bucky crunches a mouthful of cereal. "I just want to go home."

"Okay." George returns his attention to his own breakfast. "I can give you a ride to your place," he says a couple of minutes later.

"You don't have to."

"I want to." George Barnes' tone tells Bucky he's determined to win this fight.

"Then, thanks."

His mom appears when Bucky is rinsing out his bowl to put it in the dishwasher. She gives him a hug that he may lean into longer than is entirely cool for a guy approaching 30, as his dad takes his duffle and his laptop bag out to the car.

It's not quite early, not quite rush hour, so they drive through streets that are starting to be busy but not as clogged as they're going to be in an hour. Neither of them says anything for most of the drive, but when they get two blocks from his apartment, George Barnes clears his throat and Bucky finds himself coming to attention.

"I'm sorry Steve's sick," his dad says. "Life's never been particularly easy for that boy."

"No, it's hasn't."

His dad hums an acknowledgement and shifts in his seat as they come to a red light.

"And I'm sorry I couldn't get to the wedding. I wanted to, but I couldn't leave the garage."

"It's okay, Dad. It wasn't a real-"

"Stop right there," George Barnes says as he grips the steering wheel tight. "It _was_ a real wedding. You and Steve, you may not be romantically involved, though God knows your mother wishes you were. But he's as important to you as anyone in your life. And you got married for a better reason than a lot of people who say they love each other. So, I just wanted to tell you that I know how much he means to you. Your mother and I are both rooting for him to come through all this, and we'll help out however we can."

Bucky thinks that's more words than his dad has ever said to him in one go before. He feels his chest seize up, and he notices he's clenching his fists tightly enough that his fingernails are digging into his palms. 

"Thanks, Dad." Bucky sniffs and blinks, and two big tears land on his hand. His dad just nods and keeps his eyes on the road.

For once, the traffic gods are working in his favour, and there's a parking spot right outside his building. Bucky gives his dad a long hug, his face buried in his shoulder, breathing in the aroma of engine oil and after shave that has always meant his father to him.

George hugs him back, then tousles his hair without a word. Bucky retrieves his bags from the trunk, and waves goodbye to his dad before heading into his building.

He's been away just over a month, and the apartment feels stuffy. He turns on the light, throws open a window and sprawls on the couch. 

It's the first time he's been truly alone since he got the phone call from the hospital. He's been in hospital waiting rooms or Steve's room or on the subway or in his parent's house ever since Steve collapsed. Even in his old bedroom, he was always aware of his parents down the hall. With no one else near, he feels a tension unknotting in his chest. At first, he thinks it's relief, until the unknotting becomes an unravelling and he finds himself hunched over, clutching his knees, his breath coming in great sobbing heaves.

He lets himself fall apart. 

After weeks of being strong for Steve, Bucky figures he's owed a moment of weakness. And he'd rather it happen here, in the space he's shared with Steve for the past two years, with Steve's art on the wall and Steve's easel waiting in the corner for him to come home and finish the cloth-draped painting sitting on it.

So, he sobs and he shakes, and when it's done, he sits up, wipes his face on the back of one hand, and makes his way down the hall. Another shower and cold water splashed on his face undoes most of the blotchiness around his eyes. He shaves, puts on his favourite suit, adds a tie he found in a vintage store in St. Mark's Place, and manages to almost look like the sort of engineer Tony Stark would trust with an important solar power project.

"Well, it's about damn time you showed up," Sam says when he gets to the lab. He gives Bucky a wide, gap-toothed smile and a firm, back-pounding hug that tells Bucky he's been missed. "Stark keeps coming by to argue rap versus rock with me. I need you to have my back."

"Tony may be a genius, but his taste in music is terrible," Bucky says, returning the hug. 

"Tony? Tony?" Sam crosses his arms and looks at Bucky like he just committed treason or said he prefers the Backstreet Boys to Jay-Z. "Did you just call the head of Stark Industries Tony?" 

"Um, yeah? He came by the hospital after Steve's surgery. Made sure Steve got a good room and told me to call him Tony." Tony has also been sending Bucky texts on everything from suggestions for the battery design to Pepper's critique of a show Steve had at a small gallery last year, but there's no way Bucky's going to share _that_ with Sam. 

"Huh." Sam's look tells Bucky he knows there's more to the story, but that he's magnanimous enough to drop it. "And how _is_ the husband?"

" _Steve_ is fine." He pushes down all of his doubts and fears about Steve and concentrates only on the gains Steve has made. "He's doing laps around the cardiac ward. Be running a marathon any day now."

"Really?" Sam gives him a dubious look, and Bucky realizes he owes him at least some of the truth.

"Really, Sam. Well, not the marathon part, obviously. But he's doing well enough that I let him convince me to come back to work."

"I'm glad," Sam says, and Bucky can tell that he really means it. He throws an arm over Bucky's shoulder and pulls him over to his lab bench. "Now, let me show you what I've been doing with our design while you've been lollygagging at the hospital."

It's a good day. Sam's done great work with their design while he's been "lollygagging." And Bucky can see some of the tweaks Tony's suggested, too, which means he's been doing more on his visits to the lab than offending Sam's musical taste. With Bucky back, they make even more improvements, bouncing ideas off each other, calculating energy output, and generally working as seamlessly together as they always have.

It's such a good day that Bucky can go whole minutes without thinking about Steve, alone at the hospital. He thinks he's hidden his distraction pretty well, but as soon as the lab clock hits five, Sam elbows him in the ribs.

"Go on, Romeo. It's quitting time. Go see your man."

Bucky ignores the Romeo crack, thanks Sam, and heads for the subway. On the long ride up on the A train, he finds himself twirling the green glass ring he still hasn't taken off, and wondering what sort of a day Steve has had, hoping he hasn't fallen or collapsed or had some sort of setback.

Steve is doing a lap of the cardiac ward when Bucky arrives. Bucky watches him from the back for a minute, amazed at how far he's come. He's still moving slowly, carefully placing slipper-shod feet one in front of the other, but his back is straight and his steps are sure. He watches until Steve gets to the end of the hall and turns.

"Bucky!" Steve says when he turns to see him, his open smile lighting up Bucky's whole world. With Steve facing him, Bucky can see even more the progress he's made. His face is no longer drawn with lines of pain or fatigue, his skin is still the healthy pink that shows his heart is now doing its job better than it probably has in years.

"Miss me?" Bucky says.

"I didn't have time to," Steve says. "They had me working all day." But the hug he gives Bucky, his LVAD's battery pack bumping against Bucky's side, tells Bucky they both missed each other the same amount. Which is to say, enormously. 

"Did you give them a hard time?" Bucky asks, his face buried in the crook of Steve's neck, hiding the wave of emotion he finds suddenly swamping him. 

"He was terrible," Reyes teases as he comes up on them. "Worst patient I've ever had."

"I bet," Bucky says, hoping his voice doesn't sound as choked up as it feels.

They finally break apart, smiling at each other. Bucky takes Steve's elbow on the side that doesn't have the battery pack, and escorts him back to his room. They sit side by side on the bed and trade stories of their day. Steve listens intently to everything Bucky has to say about the battery project. Bucky laughs when Steve tells him that Marlene, his OT, finally gave him the how-to-have-sex-with-a-power-cord-sticking-out-of-you talk.

"That woman is not as innocent as she looks," Steve says, looking more than a little horrified. Bucky can't help but laugh, and he wonders if Steve would survive him asking about the details of Marlene's cyborg sex tips. 

Reyes breaks the rules and gives Bucky an extra meal tray, so they can sit together and eat hospital kitchen meat loaf together. (The meat loaf is dry, the mashed potatoes are lumpy and the chocolate pudding has a skin on it, but it's still one of the best meals Bucky's ever had.)

When visiting hours are over and it's time for Bucky to leave, he gives Steve a hug. For a fraction of a second, he wonders if he could get away with dropping a kiss onto Steve's forehead again, but he decides not to risk it. He's not sure if Steve would ignore it or welcome it or absolutely hate it, and he doesn't want to spoil this perfect evening.

"Sweet dreams, punk," he says as he pulls back.

"You, too, jerk," Steve says, and reaches out to mess up his hair.

Bucky smiles all the way home. And this time, when he opens the door to their apartment, what he feels isn't anxiety or fear or dread. It's hope. Anticipation. Steve will finish healing and he'll come home and they'll find him a new heart and he'll be fine. 

Everything will be fine.

* * *

They settle into a new routine. During the day, Bucky goes to work, and Steve concentrates on therapy. Physical therapy, to strengthen core muscles sliced by the surgery, and occupational therapy, to make sure he knows how to live with his new normal. 

Every day, Bucky can see Steve get stronger. In fact, he seems to have more energy than he's had since he collapsed back in university. It makes Bucky wonder how much Steve has been going through these last few years, how much he's been hiding from him.

Bucky arrives at Steve's room one evening to find Dr. Afolabie talking to him. She tells them Steve should be able to go home soon.

"You're handling the pump well, the incisions are nearly healed, and there's no sign of infection," she says. "You're ready."

The next time Bucky arrives, Reyes shows both of them how to change the dressing around the drive line. 

"You're not really supposed to do this," Reyes says, and then shows them how to cover the hole in Steve's side with a plastic bag, taping the edges securely down so he can take a shower. "Baths are right out, but you should be okay to take a shower."

"I've been dreaming of taking a shower," Steve says. "Sponge baths are getting real old."

The Saturday before Steve is going to be released, Bucky gets their apartment cleaner than it's ever been. He scrubs the bathroom and kitchen, and changes the sheets on Steve's bed. He doesn't want Steve to come home and pick up an infection in their apartment.

A few days before he's released, Steve goes to a meeting of a support group for LVAD patients. He's so excited when Bucky sees him that night.

"People live with these pumps for years," he tells Bucky. "There was a guy at the meeting, Nate, who's had his for nearly seven years. So, even if they can't find me a heart right away, I'll have time."

"That's great, Steve," he says, and mostly means it.

Seven years. Bucky tries to be grateful for that. It's more time than he thought Steve would have two months ago, but he wants more than seven years on a pump for Steve. He wants a long, long, life for him with a healthy new heart. But if seven years with the pump is what they get, he'll take it.

In the end, they get seven weeks.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve makes it home. Things go wrong.

Bucky is so intent on getting Steve home and settled that he somehow completely forgets his own birthday, three days later. The only reason he remembers it at all is that Steve makes him birthday pancakes with chocolate chips and banana for breakfast before he heads off to work.

"Becks helped with this," Steve says, as he hands Bucky a long thin box wrapped in NASA gift paper. When he rips open the paper, Bucky finds a tie with control panels of the Apollo spaceship cockpit. 

"Steve, this is…" He stops, unable to continue around the lump in his throat.

"It's okay if you don't like it," Steve says, mistaking his lack of words for ambivalence.

"No…it's…I love it," Bucky finally manages, and is rewarded with a relieved smile from Steve. The smile, more than the tie, is the best birthday gift Bucky could have asked for.

The first few weeks after Steve comes home are great. Steve adjusts to carrying around the battery pack as easily as he's adjusted to every other obstacle life has thrown at him. (If Bucky peeks into his room every night after Steve's fallen asleep to make sure he's plugged his pump to recharge its battery, Steve doesn't have to know that.)

Steve gets in touch with all of his clients, and the good ones send more work his way. When Bucky gets home from Stark Industries every night, Steve is working away on his laptop or at his easel, as happy as Bucky's ever seen him. Bucky usually has to remind him what happened in university to get him to stop working every night. He doesn't want to be Steve's keeper, but he also doesn't want to come home and find him collapsed because he doesn't know how to pace himself. (Steve _doesn't_ know how to pace himself, but Bucky can be his voice of reason.)

After a couple of weeks, when they're sure Steve is up for it, they have a small, quiet party, half welcome home for Steve, half belated birthday party for Bucky. Steve invites some friends from undergrad—Monty, Gabe, Jim and Jack—and his favourite client, Natasha. 

Bucky threatens Steve's art school friends with a sock in the jaw if they give Steve too much booze or try and take him out for a night on the town. He doesn't do the same with Natasha. He's always been vaguely terrified of her. She's the editor of a fashion magazine that's making a good run at being the next Vogue and has always given Steve a lot of design and illustration work. She's also Russian, poised, and gives off an aura of knowing ten ways to kill you with her bare hands without breaking a meticulously manicured fingernail.

Bucky invites his sister, Sam, and, somewhat accidentally, Tony.

Tony was Sam's fault.

Sam had asked Bucky what he could bring just as Tony walked into the lab on one of his random and increasingly frequent visits. (Bucky thinks Tony considers them friends, now. When he stops to think about it, he's amazed that he's married to his best friend and friends with Tony Stark.) 

"Party?" Tony said, perking up in a way that only those who knew him would find terrifying. Tony Stark being interested in anything always results in trouble. "You're having a party for the cyborg husband?"

"And Bucky's birthday," Sam chirped in before Bucky managed to elbow him in the ribs.

"Well, I am an _excellent_ party guest," Tony had said. "Both of the welcome home and birthday sort." 

"It's going to be small. And quiet," Bucky had said, trying to deflect Stark.

"I can do small. And quiet. Okay, maybe not quiet. But I can bring Pepper. She'll make me do quiet. Can I come? Can I come? Can I come?"

It turns out that Tony _is_ an excellent party guest. He brings a bottle of the most expensive wine Bucky will ever see and his CEO/girlfriend, Pepper Potts. Pepper is lovely and _can_ make Tony do quiet. And if having them over means temporarily turning Steve's bedroom into _their_ bedroom so Tony doesn't realize their marriage is fake, it's a small price to pay. (Bucky is absolutely not hoping that one of his guests gets too trashed to go home and has to take his bedroom and he ends up sleeping in the same bed as Steve tonight. He really isn't. Except how he kind of is.)

The party is a success. When they find out she's interested in the art scene, Steve's school friends mob Pepper, showing her pictures of their paintings and sculptures and installations on their phones. She promises all of them she'll talk to gallery-owning friends for them. Becks talks to Tony Stark and has a paid internship lined up for the summer by the end of the evening. (Bucky just hopes that Tony doesn't put her in _his_ lab.) And most unexpectedly of all, Sam ends up going home with Natasha, a slightly stunned look on his face, and altogether satisfied look on hers. (Bucky would really appreciate it if she doesn't eat Sam alive. Sam's the best lab partner he's ever had.)

At the end of evening, Steve allows himself one glass of Tony's expensive wine, and sits in a corner of the couch, a completely content expression on his face. Bucky's had more scotch than he probably should have, and collapses beside Steve as he watches Natasha complete her black widow mating dance with Sam.

Bucky leans against Steve, smiling when he feels Steve lean back against him.

"I love you, man," Bucky says, drunk enough that he lets the words escape his lips, sober enough that he hopes Steve doesn't take offence.

"I love you, too," Steve says, elbowing Bucky lightly in the ribs.

It's the best night Bucky's had in a long time.

* * *

Bucky relaxes his guard after the party. He doesn't brace himself to find signs of infection every time he changes the dressing around Steve's drive line. He only checks if Steve remembered to plug the pump in every other night. And he (mostly) stops wondering when the roof is going to fall in on them.

With Steve stronger, and winter giving way to spring, they go out more. They try a new brunch place in Williamsburg. They go for walks in Prospect Park. They even take the train out to Coney Island and eat a Nathan's hot dog while they sit on a rickety bench and watch the ocean.

Then, seven weeks after Steve came home, the roof _does_ fall in on them.

Bucky gets home at 6, same as he always does. He hears the music Steve plays when he's working, big band tunes that always make Bucky joke that Steve's a man out of time, turned down low, same as always. But he doesn't hear the clack of keys on Steve's laptop, or the scratch of pen on paper or brush on canvas.

"Hey, Steve!" he yells as he drops his messenger bag and hangs up his coat. "I'm home. And I'm exhausted. Whaddaya say we order in Thai instead of—"

He moves into the living room where Steve works, and freezes. Steve isn't sitting at his desk, or perched in front of his easel. He's sprawled on the floor, arms and legs horribly askew, the battery pack for his pump caught awkwardly under his side.

For one horrible instant, he freezes in place as he thinks Steve is dead. 

But then he sees him breathe, sees him take in a horrible, gasping breath that breaks Bucky's paralysis.

He flies to Steve, moves the battery pack away from his side, makes sure the drive line isn't kinked. He pulls out his cell phone and calls 911. Afterwards, if someone had offered him a million dollars, he couldn't have told them what he'd said during that call. He just knows that too long later there's a knock at the door and then there are paramedics and then he and Steve are in the back of an ambulance.

During the whole thing, Steve only manages one word.

"Sorry," he gasps out as Bucky's holding his hand while they're waiting for the ambulance. As if he's got anything to apologize for, the dumb punk.

They take Steve to New York Methodist, Bucky handing over the insurance card he'd had the sense to grab before they left the apartment and then calling Dr. Afolabie as soon as he's certain Steve's not going to die on him right there in the E.R. Dr. Afolabie must do some behind the scenes magic, because as soon as Steve is stable enough, they're back in an ambulance, heading across the Brooklyn Bridge toward New York Presbyterian. (Sometime on the ride, Bucky wonders why the hell he keeps ending up in goy hospitals when there's a Mount Sinai in Brooklyn _and_ Manhattan.) Dr. Afolabie and Dr. Neelands are both waiting for them in the ambulance bay, and they rush Steve back up to cardiac ICU.

Bucky follows behind, but it's a back-off-and-let-the-medical-people-do-their-job situation and he can only sit in the family waiting room, hoping he's not going to see Dr. Afolabie come through the door with a look on her face that tells him Steve's dead.

When she finally does come into the waiting room, hours later, her expression is so grim that Bucky can't help but think the worse.

"He's alive," she says immediately, knowing what he must think.

"But-" he prompts her.

"But now the right side of his heart is failing him. He needs a new heart right away."

"What are the chances of that?"

"He's on the top of the transplant list," she says. "Now, we can only trust to fate."

It's a horrible thing, wanting a stranger with the right blood type to die so Steve can live, but Bucky has never wished so hard for someone else to have the wrong sort of luck. 

"Can I see him?"

"He can't talk. And you can't stay long," she says, before leading him into the room where Steve is surrounded by beeping machines yet again. He's attached to a heart monitor, which is making sounds that aren't at all comforting, there's an IV in the back of his hand, and there's a ventilation mask on his face.

"We haven't intubated him yet," Dr. Afolabie says. "But we need to now. And when we do, we'll have to sedate him, so anything you need to say to him…" she leaves the thought unfinished. 

Bucky's not ready for this: for Steve going from maybe living seven years with a pump in his chest to needing a transplant _now_ ; for ICU and intubation and the need for last words to his friend.

He sits heavily down beside Steve, and takes his hand.

Steve is glassy-eyed and gasping in spite of the ventilation mask on his face. His skin has gone from pink to grey, and the grip he has on Bucky's hand is weak and limp.

_Sorry_ Steve mouths silently under the mask. 

"You got nothing to be sorry for, Steve," he says firmly. "But you gotta keep fighting for me. Can you do that? Can you keep fighting?"

Steve blinks and nods and then, as if that's taken every ounce of energy he had, his eyes drift closed and he falls into an uneasy sleep.

A few minutes later, Dr. Afolabie escorts him out of the room, and into a small office beside the nursing station. He sits there, alone, while she and the nurses and an anaesthetist sedate Steve and hook him back up to a ventilator, all while he imagines the worst. It takes her an hour to come back to the office and go through the treatment options for Steve. 

After he and Steve got fake married, they had a lawyer friend of Becks' draw up very real medical power of attorney papers, so Bucky could make any medical decisions if Steve couldn't. Bucky's been hoping he'd never have to use that power. Dr. Afolabie has him sign a raft of papers. Bucky gets through it because he has to, because Steve is depending on him, but he's still in shock and he's only barely aware of what he's being told beyond the words transplant and heart lung machine and life support being mentioned. Bucky does know he tells Dr. Afolabie to do whatever's necessary to save Steve's life. Steve's a fighter; he's promised Bucky he'll fight.

Dr. Afolabie leads him back to the family room. It's after regular visitor hours, so the room is empty and dimly lit, and Bucky thinks if he was going to freak out, that now would be the perfect time. But he doesn't. He doesn't feel like crying. He doesn't feel much of anything. He feels hollowed out and empty.

Before he realizes he's done it, he pulls out his phone and stares at his list of contacts.

He nearly calls his mom, but holds off. It's late and she gets up early and tomorrow morning is soon enough for her to hear bad news. Becks is approaching exams week, so he doesn't call her for the same reason. But he can text people. So, he texts Steve's friends, Gabe and Dugan and the others. He texts Natasha. He texts Sam. And then, because he's functioning on autopilot and he sees his name hovering above Sam's in his contact list, he texts Tony Stark.

_i won't be at work tomorrow_ he texts Tony. _steve's back in hospital_

Tony's not quite a friend, but more than a boss, so Bucky figures it's only fair that he lets him know he needs a day off. He's not quite expecting Tony to be the first one to text back.

_be right over_ Tony's text says, and Bucky has to read it three times before he's sure that it means Tony Stark is going to come all the way up to the top of Manhattan when it's nearly midnight.

_you don't have to_ he sends back, not entirely sure he's ready for Tony Stark's version of bedside manner when Steve is…not doing well.

_no problem. already on the way_ is Tony's reply.

"Shit," Bucky says under his breath, then settles in to wait for Tony.

Bucky's not sure what he's expecting from Stark—awkward sympathy, maybe; or brusque pity—but he's not expecting the almost indecent anticipation on Tony's face.

"What happened?" Tony asks, with no introduction.

Bucky's tempted to tell Tony that it's none of his Goddamn business, but he figures the guy deserves at least the basic explanation for driving all the way up here from Midtown.

"The right side of his heart's failing. He needs a transplant right away or-"

"Or he's going to die." Anyone else finishing that sentence would look sympathetic or sad. Tony looks positively gleeful. "This is great news!"

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Bucky shouts at him. He stands up, hands clenched in fists, ready to deck Tony, hard. "Steve's dying, and you think that's great news?"

"I think it's great news, James, because I am precisely the guy who can save him."

"What?" Bucky still wants to punch Tony, but now he also wants to hear what he has to say.

"I told you before, I have a slight interest in heart transplants. More accurately, I'm probably going to need a heart transplant if the thing in my chest fails to stop the shrapnel there from slicing my heart into deli meat. So, I decided to get into the artificial heart business. After all, the heart's just a pump. It's a piece of engineering. And I'm an engineer. It can't be that hard, right?"

"Um, right?" Bucky's anger has turned to confusion.

"Wrong! Turns out it's a really hard engineering problem because, surprise, people aren't machines. Or, they kind of are machines, but machines made out of meat and liquid bits that never do quite what you expect. And none of the artificial hearts out there work for nearly long enough. And do you know why?"

"No."

"Two reasons: infections and blood clots. Either the person with the artificial heart gets a nasty infection in their lungs, and they die. Or a blood clot develops in the heart and goes into either a lung or the brain, and they die. So, I decided to work on an artificial heart that didn't involve so much dying. And I cracked it. I've created a design that doesn't encourage blood clots made from a material that inhibits infection. And ta-dah! There you have it! The answer to all your problems."

Bucky feels like he's been smacked in the face with a Tony Stark shareholder presentation. He can't take in half of what Tony just said, but it all sounds too good to be true. And Bucky knows that when something sounds too good to be true, it usually is.

"Why haven't I heard about this before?" Tony Stark developing a totally effective artificial heart seems like the sort of thing that would have been all over the news.

"Well," Tony starts looking shifty, and Bucky gets a sinking feeling in his gut. "It hasn't gone to market yet."

"But it's been tested?"

"The heart's been tested on five subjects."

"Human subjects?"

"Human-ish subjects."

"Human-ish?"

"Pigs, okay? Which, anatomically, are considered very close to humans."

"Pigs?" 

"All artificial heart trials start on pigs," Tony says quickly. "And I have FDA approval for a human trial on a specific category of subject. One who's received other treatment that's failed. One who needs a donor heart to survive." He pauses for a moment. "One like Steve."

Bucky feels a cold shot of dread run from his scalp down to his fingers and toes.

"Tony," he says carefully. "You didn't make friends with us just so you could use Steve as a Guinea pig? Did you?" Bucky's thought more than once how odd it was to have Tony fucking Stark wanting to be his friend, but now he's wondering if it's more sinister than odd.

"No!" Tony blurts out. "God, no. Steve's doctors were doing exactly what they should have. I never thought he'd need my heart." The look on Tony's face is so horrified that Bucky can't help but believe him.

"I know how much Steve means to you," Tony says carefully, his expression nothing but sympathetic. "And I _know_ this is going to work. It's the best chance he has."

Bucky forces himself not to hyperventilate, forces himself to consider everything he's heard in the last twelve hours. He considers what Dr. Afolabie told him, the slim chance Steve has of surviving if he doesn't get a donor heart soon, the limited chance of him surviving a bridging artificial heart for exactly the reasons Tony said they don't work. He considers Tony's plan, using a new artificial heart tested only on pigs.

He's tired and tense and not in the best shape for making a life or death decision for anyone, let alone his best friend, the guy he's been secretly in love with forever. He just wants Steve to live, wants him to have a long and happy life, wants him to have the chance to divorce his sorry ass. And his gut is telling him that Tony Stark's artificial heart is the best chance Steve has for any of that.

He looks down at the glass ring on his left hand, rubs his thumb on its comforting coolness, and makes a decision.

"Okay," he says. "You convince Steve's doctor that your heart will work, and we'll do it."

"All right!" Tony says, rubbing his hands together, his next words demonstrating every ounce of tact he doesn't have. "This is going to be fun."


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve gets his new heart.

Bucky figures they'll wait for the morning to talk to Dr. Afolabie, but he doesn't take Tony Stark's determination into account. He charms the massively sceptical nurse in charge of ICU into giving him Dr. Afolabie's home phone number, then charms Afolabie into coming back to the hospital in the middle of the night so he can explain his insane plan to her. He pulls up study results schematics of the artificial heart on his phone and has a solution for every possible problem she raises while Bucky paces nervously behind him. 

By the time the sun is coming up, she has, reluctantly, signed onto his plan. With one caveat.

"You may be a genius, Mr. Stark, but you still need a board-certified surgeon to perform the actual operation," she points out.

"I've talked to Dr. Neelands about my work at a few conferences," Tony tells her. "I'm sure we can convince him to help us make medical history."

Tony applies more charm and convinces Neelands to talk to them before his first operation of the day. 

"When you told me about this at the last Cardiology Congress," Neelands says, "I didn't realize you were ready for a human trial."

"The FDA says I am." Tony flashes Neelands a grin that is 1000% confidence.

The next two days pass in a rush. Tony takes Dr. Neelands through the protocol for installing his artificial heart, Neelands re-arranges his schedule and finds an operating theatre for the surgery, and Dr. Afolabie and the cardiac ICU team spend their time keeping Steve alive.

Bucky has nothing to do but hover around Steve's pod in ICU. He holds Steve's hand when he can, and gets out of the nurses' way when they need to check on Steve.

His mom appears at noon on the first day after he leaves her an only partially coherent message on her work voicemail.

"Oh, boychik," she says, holding Bucky in a crushing hug as he tries futilely not to sob. She stays with him the whole day, bringing him coffee and wraps from the nearest Starbucks.

Esther shows up at the evening shift change, and gets herself assigned to Steve.

"I was hoping I wouldn't see you back here for a long time," Esther says, giving Bucky a hug. She and Winifred act like long lost sisters. Bucky watches the two of them chat at the nursing station as he sits at Steve's side, reading him more of The Hobbit and listening to the rhythm of the ventilator.

Bucky gets texts from their friends and phone calls from his sister and his dad shows up at the end of visiting hours to take him and his mom back to Brooklyn. It's still the loneliest two days he's ever had, waiting while Steve's caught between death and life.

The day of the surgery, Bucky has his dad drive him to the hospital before sun is up so he can be with Steve before they take him to the operating room. 

"Do you want me to stay with you?" his dad asks him as they pull up in front of the hospital.

"I'll be fine, Dad." 

"So, will Steve." His dad pats him comfortingly on the shoulder. "After all, he's got Tony Stark _and_ you in his corner."

Bucky nods in response and feels his throat go tight as he steps out of the car.

Once he gets up to ICU, he can't think of one damn thing to say to Steve, so just sits with him, listening to the ventilator breathe for him until the orderly arrives to take him to the operating room, then ruffles Steve's hair and kisses his forehead. (He wishes Esther was on duty. She's promised she'll be there when Steve gets back from recovery.)

Tony is waiting for him in the surgical waiting room.

"I want you to see something," he says, and then leads Bucky down hallways with lots of Authorized Entry Only signs. He pushes Bucky through a door and up a set of stairs, and then Bucky finds out why operating rooms are sometimes called operating theatres. He's in what looks like a box seat at the Garden, except that the glass window in front of him looks onto the operating room where they're rolling Steve in.

"I don't want to watch this," Bucky says, and pulls away from Tony. Watching Steve opened up, even if it's to save him, is the worst thing Bucky can think of.

"Of course not," Tony says. "But I thought you might want to see his new heart."

Bucky turns back, and looks to where Tony's pointing. Sitting on a tray to one side of the room is Tony's invention. It's not what Bucky expected. The heart is two half spheres attached to each other with tubes coming out of each one and what looks like a tiny arc reactor implanted in one half sphere. It's not very big, not much bigger than a man's fist, and it's made from a dull silver material that shimmers purple where the light catches it. In spite of himself, Bucky finds himself fascinated by this piece of engineering that might (has to) save Steve's life.

"Power?" he asks.

"Arc reactor," Tony confirms.

"What's it made of?"

"It's a composite. Carbon and titanium."

"I've never seen carbon and titanium look like that."

"There's an added secret ingredient."

"How secret?" Bucky pushes.

"I may have done a year of graduate work in a certain African kingdom and become friends with a certain African prince who may have given me a limited supply of a certain rare metal to experiment with. On the condition that I share any inventions with his sister."

"Vibranium?" Bucky can't quite believe it. 

"Vibranium," Tony says with a grin. "That's what prevents the blood clots. And inhibits infection. The Wakandans have been using it in medical implants for decades."

"Holy shit." In his material sciences classes, vibranium had been treated as practically mythical. Bucky had been half-convinced it was just a fairy story engineers told each other. Now Steve is going to have a chest full of it.

Bucky watches the activity in the operating room with Tony, nodding at Dr. Neelands, until they start prepping Steve for the first incision, then Tony leads him back to the waiting room.

"I've got to go back," Tony says. "They want me in the observation area to consult in case they have problems with the heart. Which they won't, of course, because my design is flawless and Neelands is a great surgeon." Tony pats him on the shoulder. "I'll look out for him for you."

"Thanks." Bucky chokes out, and watches as Tony disappears out the door.

Having seen Steve's new heart helps Bucky deal with the wait. It gives him something concrete to focus on instead of imagining worst case scenarios. And the wait isn't even that long this time. It doesn't seem right, but the surgery to replace Steve's heart takes less time than putting in the pump had. 

Two hours after he left the operating theatre with Tony, both Tony and Dr. Neelands show up in the waiting room, their smiles telling Bucky everything he wants to know before they say a word.

"The surgery went perfectly," Dr. Neelands says. "The heart's working-"

"Of course," Tony breaks in.

"-and Steve's doing even better than expected." Neelands is unflappable in the face of Tony's interruption. Which, Bucky supposes, is a good quality to have in a cardiac surgeon. 

Bucky feels such a sense of relief flood him. Steve's okay. He's alive. He's not going to die on Bucky. Not yet. Hopefully not for a long time. Bucky takes a ragged breath in and tries to concentrate on what Dr. Neelands is saying.

"You know the drill from here," he continues. "He'll go from recovery back to cardiac ICU. We'll keep him sedated and on the ventilator until he's ready to breathe on his own. Then we can work on getting him ready to go home."

Home. Bucky wants nothing more than to have Steve home again.

"Okay," Bucky says. "When can I see him?"

* * *

Bucky stays with Steve for the next 48 hours, only leaving for a few hours in the middle of the night when the nurses make him sleep in the on-call room. He's at Steve's side when Steve tries to pull out the breathing tube again, giving Bucky another horrible few minutes. He insists on staying when they remove the breathing tube this time, holding Steve's hand and looking away when Esther tells him to. And he's there when Steve finally wakes up from the sedation. 

Steve blinks blearily at him, like he's trying to work out where he is.

"I'm not dead?" he asks through the ventilation mask, his voice a hoarse, croaky whisper.

"You're not dead," Bucky confirms, taking firm hold of his wrist, feeling Steve's pulse beating strongly under his fingers.

"How?" Steve asks. He stares down at himself, to the dressing covering the latest incision in his chest and where the power cord no longer comes out of his side.

"Turns out Tony Stark has a sideline in artificial hearts. And the very first one, for a human anyway, is now in your chest." Bucky tries to keep his tone light, like it's no big deal that Tony's invention has saved Steve's life.

Steve's eyes widen in surprise, but it seems he's exhausted what little energy he had for talking. Soon enough, he drifts to sleep.

He drifts in and out of consciousness for the next day, and Bucky has to tell him he's not dead several more times. Bucky's never so relieved as when he finally manages to stay awake for an hour at a stretch.

"Look at you," Reyes tells Steve after he's been moved to the regular cardiac ward and finally manages to get out of bed entirely on his own, clutching his IV pole like it's the only thing keeping him upright. "You and your fancy Stark heart will be dancing the cha cha by next week."

"Fuck off," Steve says through gritted teeth as he concentrates on the monumental task of putting one foot in front of the other. Reyes doesn't take it personally, just gives Steve a light pat on the back.

With Steve on the regular cardiac ward and awake, he manages to convince Bucky to go home to sleep. And now Bucky isn't his only visitor.

Steve's school friends drop by en masse one evening, and get Steve laughing so hard that silent tears of pain run down his face and both Bucky and Reyes ban them from the ward. Sam comes by with Natasha on his arm, and Bucky and Steve spend their whole visit having a silent side conversation of raised eyebrows and rolled eyes over how cute they are together. 

Bucky thinks they've gotten away without Sam or Natasha noticing until Natasha comes back in the room without Sam on the pretence of having forgotten her purse. Bucky is terrified to find out that her Russian accent is exponentially stronger when she's pissed. "If I see one more eyeroll from you, Rogers, I will pull out your surgical staples with my fingernails." She turns on Bucky. "And if you tell anyone that Sam calls me his pookie, they will never find your body." He and Steve both vow never to speak of Sam and his nicknames for Natasha again.

The Barnes family are regular visitors. Becks arrives on Steve's second night on the cardiac ward and bursts into tears as soon as she sees Steve propped up in his bed eating butterscotch pudding. ("I thought we were going to lose you this time," she sobs, carefully, into Steve shoulder. Bucky has to bite his lip so he doesn't cry, too.) Bucky's mom stops by a few times with what seems like enough matzo ball soup for everyone on the ward and pops back up to ICU to visit Esther and pass on her rugelach recipe. His dad comes all the way to the top of Manhattan to pick him up one evening, and stays for a quiet visit with Steve.

Tony is in and out constantly, running diagnostics on Steve's heart and sometimes just asking him how he feels. After Tony spends an entire afternoon with them not even mentioning Steve's heart, just talking about art and engineering and how amazing Pepper is, Bucky realizes that, huh, he really is friends with Tony Stark.

When they don’t have visitors or medical staff in the room, it’s a quiet time for them both. Sometimes Bucky reads more of The Hobbit to Steve, getting Bilbo ever closer to the Misty Mountains. Sometimes they both read from the stack of books Bucky’s mom has brought them from home, sitting side by side, Steve’s chunky glasses sitting low on his nose. And sometimes, like right now, Bucky sits quietly beside Steve as he naps lightly, Bucky enjoying Steve’s company more than ever now that he’s come so close to losing him twice.

Steve shifts slightly, and Bucky places his left hand carefully on Steve’s chest, taking comfort in the easy rhythm of his breathing.

Minutes later, Steve rises up from sleep, blinking his long lashes owlishly as he looks down at Bucky’s hand.

"I was sure you'd have taken this off by now." Steve says as he reaches out for the ring glinting on Bucky’s finger.

"I got used to it," Bucky says, a half lie that catches at his conscience. He finds himself staring at Steve, at his too blue eyes, too pink lips and his hair standing up on end, a sense of anticipation coursing through him. This is the time he could do it, tell Steve why he’s still wearing the ring. Tell him that he loves him as more than a friend. That he loves him more than anything. Steve looks at him, a question in his eyes.

"What?" Steve asks.

Bucky inhales, then exhales, and feels any courage he has desert him with his exhaled breath.

"Nothing," he says with a shrug.

Steve looks like he’s going to push it, but he finally pulls his hand back. Instead he looks down at his own hand.

"I never asked. What happened to my ring?" A frown makes a familiar divot between his eyebrows.

"It broke," Bucky says simply. "When you fell."

"Oh." Steve looks more disappointed than he should about the loss of a cheap piece of glass.

"I still have it," Bucky blurts out. "The pieces of it, anyway." They’re tucked away in the velvet bag that had held both rings, sitting on the night stand of his room at his parents’ place.

"Oh." Steve’s expression lightens, and he gives Bucky a happy smile. "Good."

Bucky knows Steve can’t feel what he does, but for this moment, it doesn’t matter. He's stupidly ecstatic that Steve cares what happened to his cheap fake wedding ring.

The next day, Dr. Afolabie shows up with Tony behind her. While Tony runs more diagnostics on Steve's heart, Dr. Afolabie checks his incision, and declares it healed well enough to remove the staples. She has to stop halfway through the process when Steve starts to cough.

"How long has that been going on?" she asks carefully, and Bucky sits up straighter, immediately alert. He finds himself playing back the last few days, searching for any other times Steve had coughed.

"This is the first time," Steve says quickly enough that Bucky knows he's lying. 'Honest!"

"Uh-huh," Afolabie says, clearly not believing Steve for an instant. "Are you coughing anything up? Any phlegm?"

"No!"

She frowns, and turns to Bucky. 

"You'll tell me if he starts coughing regularly? Especially if there's phlegm?"

"Of course," Bucky says, even as Steve is saying "It's almost like neither of you trust me."

"I know you, Stevie," Bucky says. "For this kind of thing, of course, I don't trust you."

"With this kind of surgery, a lung infection can be a big problem," Dr. Afolabie tells them. "We need to know right away if you're getting one."

Steve winces, but he doesn't argue further with either of them.

Bucky is watchful now, and notices when Steve chokes down on a cough or quickly takes a sputtering sip of water.

"I'm fine," Steve says a few afternoons later when Bucky's noticed him cough three times in one hour and then swallow with a sour look. "It's nothing."

"I believe you," Bucky says, but now he's beginning to worry. The surgery might have gone well, and his new heart might be working better than his real one ever did, but everything seems to have taken Steve longer this time. It took longer for him to get off the ventilator. It took longer for him to be moved from ICU back to the regular cardiac ward. He's barely shuffling down the hall and back, and seems frailer than he had before, as if two surgeries so close together were too much for him.

Steve chokes back on a cough two more times in the evening and this time Bucky catches him coughing into a tissue. Bucky reports that to the evening shift of nurses over Steve's protests.

"It's nothing," Steve insists, his usual stubborn expression almost convincing Bucky that he's right. "I'm fine."

"I'm sure you're fine." It's always easier to agree with Steve than fight him. "But it can't hurt to have them on the lookout for a problem."

Steve grumbles, but doesn't argue any more. Not until the end of visitor hours.

"I could stay with you tonight. Ask if I could sleep in the on-call room for a bit."

"Just go home, Bucky. You sleep like crap in the on-call room and then you'll be grumpy tomorrow." 

"But-"

"I've already told you, I'll be fine." 

"Okay," Bucky says, then leans in to give Steve a hug. He holds the hug a few seconds longer than normal, leaning his face into the crook of Steve's neck, feeling the wisps of Steve's hair brush against his cheek. "Call me if you need me. I can be back in an hour."

"Mother hen," Steve gives him a playful push.

"I wouldn't need to be a mother hen if you had an ounce of self-preservation," Bucky insists.

"Keep telling yourself that, Barnes."

"You're such a punk, Rogers."

"Jerk," Bucky shoots back with a laugh. Then he's out the door and listening for a cough as he walks down the hall to the elevator.

All the way to Brooklyn, he tells himself that he's being paranoid, that it's nothing, that Steve is fine. And he's almost got himself convinced, right up until he arrives at the hospital the next morning.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve gets sicker. Tony disappears. And Bucky tries to keep it together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, everyone, this is the toughest chapter, so I've included a some warnings in the endnotes.
> 
> All thanks to [halotolerant](https://archiveofourown.org/users/halotolerant), my marvellous medical beta, who read this chapter and said, "let me tell you what would _really_ happen to Steve if he got a lung infection."

The next morning, Bucky can hear the coughing as soon as he gets off the elevator, and he knows right away it's Steve. It sounds far worse than it did last night, wet and congested. He's running down the hall before he realizes it, skidding to a halt at Steve's door. 

Steve has his arms crossed around his chest as he shudders with a hacking cough, clearly trying to protect his incision. Bucky shudders. If laughing hurts, what is this cough doing to him? Steve's eyes look glassy and Bucky can see a sheen of sweat on his forehead.

A nurse, a young blonde woman he doesn't know, is hovering beside Steve with a basin. As Bucky watches, Steve retches up a blob of horrible green guck into it.

"How is he?" Bucky asks, even as he can guess the answer.

"And you are?" the nurse asks.

"I'm Bucky Barnes. His husband," he says, trying to tamp down on his impatience and failing completely. "How is he?"

"Mr. Barnes, your husband has a fever. Given that cough and the phlegm, I'm afraid it might be a lung infection."

"I'm fine," Steve stammers out before he starts coughing again.

"Where's Dr. Afolabie?" Bucky feels a panic churning in his gut.

"I've contacted the on-call doctor," the nurse says. "He'll be here soon." 

Bucky is on the threshold of freaking out, of demanding that the nurse gets Dr. Afolabie here right this second, but then he looks at the nurse again. She's young, even younger than they are, he'd bet, and she looks nervous, like she's doing her best and hoping she's not screwing up. Bucky takes a deep breath.

"Let's start over," he says. "I'm Bucky and he's Steve." He nods in Steve's direction. "And you are?" He tries to be calm. Making this young woman more nervous won't help Steve.

"I'm Nurse Gerard," she says, then gives him a tentative smile. "Amy. I was assigned to your husband this morning."

"Well, Amy," he says, "Is there anything you can do to help Steve before the doctor gets here?"

She moves to check Steve's chart, then stands straighter, her expression brightening.

"Oh! Dr. Afolabie ordered him a nebulizer if he needs it," she says. She disappears down the hall, and re-appears with the nebulizer. She sets up the machine at Steve's bedside, adds the medicine to it and gets its mask on Steve with a quiet efficiency that puts her in Bucky's good books. Within a minute, Steve's cough has calmed down to only the occasional sputter.

When he arrives, the on-call doctor, a young man with wild dark hair and an intense bedside manner, immediately orders an x-ray for Steve. A technician appears with a portable x-ray machine that's smaller than Bucky would have said is possible until he notices the Stark Industries logo on the side. They kick Bucky out of the room for a minute while he x-rays Steve's chest, and when Amy calls him back in he finds the doctor and the technician frowning over the machine's display.

"How is he?" Bucky asks, even though he knows the answer won't be good.

"It's pneumonia," the doctor says, and he's radiating a nervousness that Bucky doesn't like at all.

"You're giving him antibiotics?"

"Yes," he says, tentatively. "But we have to decide which one. Nurse Gerard is going to take blood and sputum samples so we can see what bug is responsible. And I want to talk to Dr. Afolabie before I prescribe anything."

The doctor and x-ray technician leave with Amy. She returns a few minutes later to take a few vials of blood and get Steve to cough into a cup. The crap he coughs up is a nasty green colour that doesn't comfort Bucky at all.

After five minutes that feels like fifty, the doctor appears again, with Amy behind him. She's carrying a small IV bag.

"I've talked to Dr. Afolabie, and we're going to start with a broad-spectrum antibiotic, meropenem. It should kill whatever's causing the pneumonia, but we'll know better after the cultures come back."

"How long will that take?" Bucky asks.

"About three days," the doctor says as Amy adds the new drugs to Steve's IV line. "In the meantime, Mr. Rogers should start feeling better in the next 24 hours."

"I hope so," Bucky mutters under his breath.

The doctor leaves, and Amy sets up Steve with an oxygen cannula. He seems to breathe easier with the oxygen.

"You rest," Amy says, and pats him gently on the shoulder.

"It's not like I'm going anywhere," Steve says. His voice is breathless and quiet.

"No, you're not," Bucky says firmly. "Not until you're better." 

Bucky stays at Steve's side all afternoon, so he's right there when Steve gets chilled enough that he's visibly shivering. When he tells Amy, she brings Steve a heated blanket.

"This sucks," Steve says through chattering teeth as Bucky wraps him like a flannel burrito. "When are the antibiotics going to start working?"

"Soon," Bucky says, trying to sound confident, even with a horrid worry niggling at the back of his neck.

Steve goes through two more heated blankets in the next few hours, Bucky leaping to get him a new one every time the shivering starts up again. Bucky's so worried that he nearly pounces on Dr. Afolabie when she appears on afternoon rounds, pulling her into Steve's room before she can see any of her other patients.

"Shouldn't he be getting better?" he asks.

"It's early yet," she says as she listens to Steve's chest and checks his chart. "We have to give the antibiotics time to work. Though, there is a chance that the organism causing the pneumonia isn't sensitive to the meropenem."

"What happens then?" Bucky can feel his anxiety rising by the second.

"Then we try a stronger drug. Gentamicin, probably."

"Why not use that now?"

"Because gentamicin is nephrotoxic."

"And that means?" Not that Bucky doesn't know that any word that ends in "toxic" has got to be bad, but he'd like to know how specifically bad it is.

"It means it can kill the patient's kidneys. And with everything Steve's been through the last few months, we don't want to risk putting his kidneys through more stress."

"Yeah, let's not stress Steve's kidneys." They're the first words Steve's said since Dr. Afolabie came into the room.

"We won't," Dr. Afolabie says, and pats Steve's hand. "We'll have you up and around in no time."

At dinner time, Amy practically kicks Bucky out of the room, sending him down to the cafeteria. He gets a piece of cardboard pizza, and figures it's as good a time as any to tell a few people about Steve. 

He sends a text to Becks, telling her Steve isn't doing well, but soft peddling how bad things are. He tells his mom a bit more, and gets a concerned text back almost immediately, with an offer to come to the hospital that he turns down for now.

He sends Tony a text of two words.

_steve's sick_

Those two words bring Tony up from Midtown so quickly that he makes it to Steve's hospital room just after Bucky returns from the cafeteria. Bucky half thinks he must have flown here.

"How's my favourite cyborg?" Tony asks as he swoops into the room.

"Not so good," Steve says, and fuck if that doesn't make Bucky more worried than ever, Steve not insisting that he's "fine."

"I thought the vibranium was supposed to prevent infection," Bucky says to Tony. If there's a bit of accusation in his tone, he can't help it.

"Inhibit, not prevent." Tony looks as worried as the on-call doctor had. "I'm sorry, Steve."

"It's okay, Tony." Steve may be breathless and coughing, but he still looks determined to fight. "It's just a little infection. I'm not going to let that take me down."

"No, of course, you're not. Now, what antibiotic do they have you on?"

Bucky tells him as Tony pulls a portable scanner out of his pocket, even smaller than the portable x-ray machine had been, and starts to run a diagnostic on Steve's heart.

"Well, the good news is my heart—I mean _your_ heart—is doing just fine." He puts the scanner away. "But I want you to keep me posted on how you're doing. Let me know if they change the drugs you're on. And tell me if the creatinine levels in your blood change."

"Crea-what?" Bucky asks. He shouldn't be surprised by the depth of Tony's knowledge about a wealth of subjects, but he still is.

"Creatinine," Tony says slowly. "It tells you how your kidneys are doing. Too much creatinine in your blood and your kidneys aren’t doing so well. A lot of the stronger antibiotics are nephro-"

"Toxic," Bucky finishes for him. "Yeah, I know. Dr. Afolabie told us already."

"Great, good," Tony says, but he’s looking distracted, like he does when he’s working on a difficult problem. "I’ll see you two later." He gives Steve a wave. "Take care small cyborg."

He sweeps out of the room, leaving the room somehow emptier than it was before he arrived.

It's time for evening shift change, and Reyes arrives to take over from Amy. He gives Steve a frown when he comes to check on Steve.

"Dude, you're not supposed to get pneumonia."

"Tell me about it," Steve says, then collapses into a coughing fit that has him bringing up more of the horrible green crap from his lungs.

Bucky spends the next three days sticking close to Steve at the hospital, and the nights alone in their apartment, staring at the ceiling and worrying about him. Steve doesn't get any worse, but he doesn't get better, either. His cough is hacking and horrible, and his fever has him alternating between shaking with cold and burning up. Bucky isn't at all surprised on the third day when Dr. Afolabie at last has the lab results.

"The bacteria causing the infection is resistant to meropenem."

Of course, it is, Bucky thinks. Because Steve can never catch a fucking break.

"So, you have to put him on gentamicin?"

"We have to put him on gentamicin," Dr. Afolabie confirms.

Bucky hasn't spent all of the last few sleepless nights staring at the ceiling. He's Googled gentamicin and its effects. How it's one of the most toxic antibiotics there is. How it can cause nerve damage if it's administered too quickly. How it damages the kidneys of up to 25% of the people who take it. Steve's never been particularly lucky. He hopes this is one of those times he is.

Dr. Afolabie hooks the gent up to Steve's IV line on a slow drip, and Bucky spends the next five minutes watching each drop of medicine fall, wondering if it's going too quickly, if it's going to trigger a seizure.

"It's going to be fine," Steve tells him between coughing fits.

"I'm supposed to be the one comforting you," Bucky says.

"Yeah, well, I figure you need a little comforting, too." Steve gives him a weak smile that doesn't do much in the way of comforting, but Bucky tries to hide his worry after that.

When Bucky leaves that night, Steve is still coughing, still feverish, but Bucky tells himself that maybe he's starting to look a bit more like himself. That doesn't stop him from spending another sleepless night, staring at the ceiling and considering all the different ways he could still lose Steve. 

In the morning, he rubs the grit out of his eyes, takes a shower, and hops on the subway just after the sun begins to rise. He arrives long before official visiting hours start, but he's always good about staying out of the nursing staff's way, so they never give him a hard time. Nurse Kaur, Reyes' night shift replacement, gives him a wave and a smile as he passes the nursing station.

"I just gave your hubby his morning dose of the gent," she says. "He's looking a lot better."

Bucky's not expecting much, but when he gets to Steve's room, Steve _is_ looking a lot better. He's still on oxygen, but he's also sitting up, he isn't coughing, and his skin no longer has the feverish sheen it's had for the last three days.

"Hey Stevie."

"Bucky!" Steve gives him one of his widest smiles, the kind of smile that fires a warm glow in Bucky's chest.

"You're looking better."

"I feel better. A lot better. Like ready to do slow laps around the ward, better."

"Don't go getting ahead of yourself," Bucky laughs, feeling a cautious optimism begin to form.

And in the next two days, there are more and more reasons for his optimism. Steve's fever breaks for good. He stops coughing up green gunk, then he stops coughing entirely. He can breathe easily without oxygen. Reyes even finally lets him get up to use the bathroom.

"You've still got to pee in a bottle, though," Reyes tells him. "We still need to keep an eye on your fluid balance."

"It's not enough that you're taking my blood every couple of hours?" Steve asks. "I swear you're all vampires."

"You found us out," Reyes tells him with a smile. "All nurses are vampires. Doctors, too. We don't need blood samples for tests, we just drink blood out of the vials with tiny little straws."

"That explains a lot," Steve says, laughing, as he closes the door of the bathroom on them.

While they're waiting for Steve to finish in the bathroom, Bucky turns to Reyes to tease him about something or other, and stops cold when he notices Reyes has gone from his usual relaxed attitude to frowning at the bathroom door.

"Anything wrong?" Bucky asks, immediately coming on alert.

"Did Steve's ankles look puffy to you?" And man, do medical people ask the weirdest questions.

"I don't know?" Bucky shrugs. "I didn't notice. Is that bad?"

"It's probably nothing," Reyes responds immediately, but he doesn't relax. And when Steve emerges from the bathroom, Bucky thinks that, yeah, his ankles do look a little puffy.

When Dr. Afolabie arrives for afternoon rounds, it's clear that Reyes must have talked to her, because she also checks Steve's ankles. And now Bucky can see that they're definitely swollen. She frowns as she goes through Steve's chart.

"Is anything wrong?" Bucky asks.

"I don't like that swelling," she says as she bites her lip. "His fluid balance is a bit off, so he's retaining some water. And his bloodwork is a bit concerning."

"What, exactly, is concerning?" Bucky carefully asks.

"There's an increase in his creatinine levels," Dr. Afolabie says, and Bucky feels a slight surge of unease flow down his spine. He looks at Steve, remembering what Tony asked them to look out for. He's read up even more on gentamicin and pneumonia since Tony's visit, and he knows now what Steve could be facing.

"It's his kidneys, isn't it?"

"It could be."

"Then take him off the gent."

Dr. Afolabie shakes her head, and looks at Steve.

"You've only been on it three days, and I wanted you on it at least seven to completely kill the bacteria. I don't want the pneumonia getting hold of your lungs again, or becoming resistant even to the gent." She frowns deeper. "But I am going to reduce the dosage."

Dr. Afolabie updates Steve's chart, reducing the dosage of gent he'll receive. And Bucky sends Tony a text.

_creatinine levels up. dropping gent dosage_

Tony responds not a minute later, though it's nothing that's helpful, just _ok got it_. And this time he doesn't appear in Steve's room a ridiculously short time later. Or at all. Not that Bucky has much time in the next few days to think about Tony Stark.

The next day sees more good news, and more bad. Steve's pneumonia is better, but indications that his kidneys aren't doing well are getting worse. His ankles are puffier, his fluid output has dropped, and there are more bad numbers in his bloods.

Dr. Afolabie shows up early in the afternoon, not long after the latest blood draw, looking as concerned as Bucky's ever seen her. She doesn't beat around the bush.

"Steve's kidneys are failing," she says, and Bucky feels like he's in an elevator that's just dropped out from under him. He reaches out and takes hold of Steve's hand. "I'm not going to lie. This is not good. But it's not necessarily dire. Sometimes when someone's body has been through the kind of strain Steve's has, the kidneys will shut down for a short time. We've just got to give them the time to start up again."

"How do you that?" Steve asks. His voice sounds calm, but he's gripping Bucky's hand hard enough to hurt.

"We're going to dialyse you. We'll clean the blood, give your kidneys a break, and let them get started on their own."

Afolabie sounds calm and confident, like she always does. Bucky examines her closely, looks for the cracks, the evidence that she's lying to them to spare their feelings, and finds nothing.

"Okay," Steve says, as ready to take on this fight as he's taken on every other fight in his life. "When do we get started?"

* * *

Reyes' cousin, Danilo, arrives to take Steve down to the dialysis lab. The dialysis technician puts two lines into Steve's arm, and then they wait four hours while all of Steve's blood is run through the dialysis machine and cleaned. The technician seems pleased with the results, Steve seems a little better at the end of the treatment, and Bucky is feeling optimistic when he leaves for home that evening.

"Don't do anything stupid until I get back," he tells Steve before he leaves.

"How can I," Steve says with a grin. "You're taking all the stupid with you."

Bucky feels slightly less optimistic when he gets back to the hospital the next morning. Given that he just had dialysis, Bucky's expecting Steve to be better the next day. Instead, he's worse. His legs are swelling more, he's complaining that his belly hurts, and he has a yellow tinge to his skin that Bucky hasn't noticed before.

"What's going on?" he asks Nurse Kaur, but she won't give him an answer, just takes more blood from Steve and tells him the doctor will talk to him. When the on-call doctor arrives, he won't say anything either, telling them to wait for Dr. Afolabie. And when Dr. Afolabie arrives, Bucky takes one look at her expression, serious and concerned and so Goddamned sympathetic, and knows he doesn't want to hear what she's going to tell them.

"What is it?" Steve asks. Because Steve has never backed down from a fight in his life.

"The dialysis helped. Your creatinine numbers are slightly better today."

"But?" Steve pushes her. He's recognized that expression on her face as well.

"But we're now finding liver enzymes in your blood."

"What does that mean?" Steve asks.

"It means your liver is failing, too," Dr. Afolabie says, her voice steady but concerned. Bucky hates her in that moment. "It's rare, but it sometimes happens with heart patients."

"What can you do?" Bucky asks. Because there must be something. 

"We'll do dialysis again today, hope that the liver improves."

"But if it doesn't?" Steve asks.

"In any other patient, we'd be looking to do a transplant. Kidney and liver."

"In any other patient?" Bucky doesn't like the sound of that.

"If Steve hadn't had the heart transplant already, if he hadn't had pneumonia, he'd be put on the transplant list. But with his condition already compromised…" Dr. Afolabie stops and takes a deep breath. "He wouldn't survive the surgery."

"Thank you, Doctor," Steve is saying, his tone polite, when all Bucky wants to do is scream.

"I want you to understand, we're not there yet," Dr. Afolabie says. "His kidneys still could start working. The liver failure could reverse."

"I understand," Steve says, chin jutting out in exactly the way he's faced down every bully since Bucky's known him. Only this time he's not fighting another person. This time he's fighting his own body.

* * *

After Dr. Afolabie leaves, Steve says, "I'm not giving up," and then he doesn't say another thing about his condition. 

He gets Bucky to read him more Tolkien. He and Bucky go through three months of posts on the WeRateDogs Twitter feed. Bucky goes down to the cafeteria and gets Steve some veggie soup that's better than anything that's shown up on his meal tray. But Steve doesn't say anything about kidneys or dialysis or his liver, and Bucky doesn't either.

Just as he's about to leave for the night, his phone gives a buzz.

 _how's the cyborg?_ Tony has texted. Bucky's torn between relief that Tony wants to know about Steve and irritation that he's been out of touch the last few days.

"Who's that?" Steve asks.

"Tony. He's checking in on you."

"Tell him I'm peachy," Steve says.

 _not good_ Bucky finally texts back. _kidneys and liver all failing_

Tony sends back a frowny emoji.

 _can you come see him?_ Bucky responds.

 _working on something_ Tony texts back. _can't come now_

Bucky's worked long enough at Stark Industries that he knows this is how Tony operates. He gets involved in a project and forgets about everything else, whether that project is a solar battery or an artificial intelligence or an artificial heart. He shouldn't take it quite so personally, but when Steve was Tony's latest project, he fooled himself into thinking Tony was their friend. Now it feels like they're just another scheme that hasn't worked out to spec. 

The rejection stings. Still, he hides the hurt from Steve.

The next day starts with more dialysis, more blood tests, more nurses and doctors fussing over Steve as he fends off that fussing. Bucky hopes he's imagining it, but the yellow tinge he'd seen yesterday grows darker. There's even the beginning of yellow in the white of Steve's eyes.

The day after that, is more of the same, except now Steve is constantly nauseous, and while his legs are still swollen, his face starts to hollow out, as if he's losing weight. Even without Dr. Afolabie reporting on the results of Steve's blood tests, Bucky would know that Steve's getting worse, far worse, not better.

The next day, Dr. Afolabie arrives not long after Bucky shows up in the room. While her expression is as calm as ever, Bucky can see a sorrow behind it, and he knows she's not here to give them good news.

Steve knows it, too.

"How long have I got?" Steve asks before she can say anything. His voice is quiet and steady and so fucking brave.

"I can't-"

"How long?" Steve insists.

The worst part is that Dr. Afolabie doesn't correct him, doesn't tell Steve he's being stupid and he's not dying any time soon. The worst part is that she tells him "You'll be conscious for another week at most. After that, you'll slip into a coma."

"Thank you, Dr. Afolabie," Steve says, and he sounds worse than sick. He sounds defeated. "You tried your best." He turns to Bucky. "I want to say goodbye to my friends."

Bucky feels all his eyes prickle and his shoulders tense and his heart clench. He wants nothing more than to tell Steve to shut up, that he's not going to die, that _they_ haven't been right about him dying before, and _they_ aren't going to be right about it now. But the words freeze in his throat. Instead, he nods and clutches at Steve's hand.

Bucky holds it together as Afolabie says goodbye. He keeps calm while Steve dictates a message to all of his friends and Bucky's family for him to send. He waits until Steve is has fallen into an uneasy sleep, and then he makes his way to a broom closet he's discovered down the hall, away from Steve and the nurses and the other patients on the floor, his movement feeling awkward and stilted. He locks himself in, collapses against the door, and weeps.

* * *

It doesn't take long for the first visitors to arrive. Winifred and George Barnes are there within the hour. His mom has a box of pastries from Steve's favourite bakery and red-rimmed eyes. His dad is stone-faced and looks like he doesn't know what to do with his hands, clenching them at his side.

Winnie sits with Steve while George takes Bucky down to the lobby to get coffee for everyone. George pulls Bucky to a stop before they get to the elevator.

"I'm so sorry, son," he says, his expression saying more that his words ever could. Bucky lets his dad hug him right there as other families getting off the elevator flow around them, missing the days when all it took to fix his troubles were hugs from his dad and pastries from him mom.

Becks shows up while their parents are still there. She keeps a brave face in front of Steve, but when Bucky takes her out to the hall to say goodbye, her lip wobbles. After a few shuddering breaths, she starts crying and can't stop, and it takes all Bucky strength not to sob with her.

People arrive in regular intervals after that, a few a day, enough time between them that their visits don't tire Steve out. Bucky suspects that someone's coordinating the times for their visits, and two days later he finds out it's Natasha who's been organizing their friends with the iron discipline she uses to run her magazine.

Steve always rallies for the visits, talking as much as he can around the pain that's settled in his abdomen, offering smiles to his friends. But as soon as Dugan or Sam or Morita leave, Steve looks exhausted. Bucky feels honoured that Steve doesn't feel like he has to put on a front around _him_ , but it doesn't make it any easier to witness. 

After that first trip down for coffee with his dad, Bucky refuses to leave the room. He won't even sleep in the on-call room, catching what sleep he can on a foldaway cot the Danilo has found for him. It's murder on his back, but he barely pays attention to the pain, so afraid of not being their when Steve needs him. Afraid that without him there, Steve will have nothing, no one to fight for, and will let himself slip away.

The one person who doesn't visit is Tony. In fact, after that last text saying he was working on something, Tony's been absolutely silent. After three days, Bucky starts texting him almost hourly.

_steve is asking about u_

_if u want to see him, u need to hurry_

_where tf r u, man?_

"I'm sure Tony's busy with something," Steve says, always as willing to see the best in his friends as he is to fight bullies.

"No one's that busy," Bucky says firmly. "Not even Tony Stark."

Steve's symptoms get worse. The nausea becomes almost constant, and his skin itches horribly from the toxins building up in his body that his liver can no longer remove. The jaundice is obvious, Steve's skin a sunflower yellow that doesn't look entirely real. 

The hardest thing, though, is the delirium. More and more, Steve becomes unstuck from reality, not knowing where, or sometimes even when, he is. He thinks he's at their apartment, and wonders where his easel is, why Bucky won't let him up to paint. He thinks he's back in grade one, and tells Bucky not let that jerk Mark Highsmith pick on any of the littler kids. The worst time is when Steve forgets for an entire afternoon that Sarah Rogers is dead and keeps waking up and begging Bucky to ask his mom to visit. After Steve falls into an uneasy sleep that's closer to coma than rest, Bucky visits his broom closet again, sitting with his back against the wall among the mops and cleaning supplies, clutching his knees to his chest and waiting until the shudders in his body subside.

The next day, Steve's unconscious or delirious more often than he's awake, and Bucky knows they're nearing the end. He clutches Steve's hand through the day, and into the evening, and when Steve wakes up enough to take in a few sips of broth, Bucky doesn't feel relief so much as profound sorrow at the loss that's already taken so much of Steve away from him.

"I'm sorry, Buck," Steve says, his voice so quiet that Bucky has to lean in to hear him.

"You've got nothing to be sorry for," Bucky tells him. He holds Steve's hand, and weak as he is, he can feel the fight in Steve's grip. "Nothing at all."

"I'm sorry I'll be leaving you." Steve brings his free, trembling hand up to cover Bucky's.

"You don't worry about me. Worry about yourself." Bucky takes in a breath and then he says the hardest thing he's ever done. "You don't need to fight anymore, Steve. Not if you don't want to. Not if you can't. You've fought enough, more than anyone."

Steve's hand clutches at his, and Bucky sees tears form at the edges of his lashes, but he doesn't say anything. He just nods at Bucky, and then his eyes drift closed and he falls into the uneasy unconsciousness that's the closest thing he seems to come to sleep.

Bucky stays with him until he's sure Steve won't wake soon, and then he goes to his broom closet. He sinks to the floor, shaking with emotion, but somehow unable to cry. His feelings are too scrambled, too raw, sorrow and anger and fear all balled up so tight that he can't untangle them.

He focuses on his anger. And he focuses his anger on the one person who still hasn't come to see Steve, Tony Stark.

He pulls his phone out of his pocket, and starts to text Tony.

 _steve's dying_ , he texts, not wanting to sugar coat anything for Tony. _so if you want to say goodbye, come soon_

The notifications that the texts have been delivered, that they’ve been read, pop up. Then Bucky sees the little bubbles that tell him Tony is writing a response appear and vanish several times before they disappear entirely.

“You coward, Tony Stark,” Bucky sobs out, and only barely stops himself from throwing his phone across the small space.

He stays where he is for ten more minutes, until he knows he can see Steve without breaking down again. Then he goes to the family washroom down the hall, splashes cold water on his face in a doomed attempt to hide his red eyes and swollen face, and returns to Steve’s room.

Steve’s back awake and lucid when he arrives. If he notices Bucky’s been crying, he doesn’t say. Bucky doesn’t say anything either. He’s said all he needs to, all he can. He just sits quietly with Steve as the hospital quiets around them, holding Steve’s hand and soothing away whatever pain and bad dreams he can.

He's still sitting at Steve's side, still holding his hand, when Tony Stark finally arrives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Steve gets an antibiotic-resistant lung infection. The drugs needed to treat it damage his kidneys, and his liver also starts shutting down. Dr. Afolabie finally gives him only a week before he slips into a coma.
> 
> But remember, there is a happy ending!


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony has a plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that last chapter was rough, but things do start to get better now!

It's the middle of the night, but Bucky's wide awake, listening to Steve's laboured breathing, his heart catching every time Steve takes too long to gasp his next lungful of air. Bucky hears footsteps and the muted voices of one of the nurses on night duty telling someone that visiting hours are long over and a man's voice, Tony's voice, telling her he'll only be a minute.

When he comes into the room, Tony looks a mess, maybe even worse that Bucky feels. His hair is standing up on end, he hasn't shaved for days, his usually neat goatee ragged and stubbly, and the circles under his eyes make it look like he's been punched.

"Hey there," Tony says, like it's totally normal to show up in the hospital room of a dying friend at two in the fucking morning. 

Bucky feels a wave of anger wash over him, and before he realizes he's doing it he's rushing Tony, grabbing his arm and dragging him into the hallway.

"What the hell, Tony?" Bucky half whispers, half shouts, completely forgetting that this is his boss, one of the richest men in the country. In the world. "Where the fuck have you been? I've been texting you for days. Did you not want to see Steve? Or were you hoping he'd die before you got here and save you the trouble of saying goodbye?" Bucky's aware that his face is wet, but he's so angry at Tony that he swipes at the tears without a thought.

"I'm not going to defend myself," Tony says, his tone more serious than Bucky's ever heard it, his expression grave. "I'm just going to say one thing: I've found a way to save Steve."

"He's dying, Tony." Bucky pushes himself away from Tony. "There's no way to save him. Dr. Afolabie told me. Everyone's told me. His kidneys have failed, and his liver, and there's no way he'd survive another transplant." He wants nothing more than to punch Stark for giving him even a slip of false hope.

The nurse at the station chooses that moment to shush them both. Bucky takes hold of his anger again and drags Stark down the hall, to the lobby by the elevators.

"There wasn't a way to save him," Stark says when they're out of earshot of the nurse. "And now there is. That's why I didn't come. I was working on a way to cure Steve."

"I know you're a genius, Tony, but even you couldn't develop an artificial liver in five days."

"Not an artificial liver. And it wasn't just me."

"What are you talking about?" Bucky's too tired, too hurt to work out what the hell is going on.

Tony takes a breath, and he gets that look in his eyes. The look he got when he told Bucky about the artificial heart. The look he gets whenever he talks about some new and interesting piece of technology.

"My dad did a lot of work for the government during the war. The big war. World War II. He developed weapons and transport and better radar arrays. But their weirdest thing he worked on, something he told me about when I was a kid, was a device that activated a serum a German defector had developed to turn regular men into super soldiers."

"Steve's no soldier," Bucky says, interrupting Tony's flow.

"I know that. The soldier part isn't the important thing. The really important thing is that this Dr. Erskine's serum supercharges the subject's healing power. It boosts the immune system and regenerates tissue."

"Did it work?" Bucky feels that slip of hope begin to creep into his heart.

"Not quite," Tony says.

"Tony!"

"But it didn't _not_ work."

"What the fuck does that mean?"

"A Nazi agent infiltrated the project and shot Erskine the night before it was going to be tested. The whole project was shut down before they could try it on anyone. But I went back to the formula and looked at the lab notes from Erskine and my dad, and I'm sure it'll work. I called in a friend to help me make up a batch."

The slip of hope begins to grow into a seedling, a plant, a Goddamn tree.

"Let's call Dr. Afolabie," Bucky says, the words tumbling out of him faster than he can control. "You still have her private number, right. I'm sure she won't mind being woken up by you in the middle of the night for this." 

Bucky begins to head towards Steve's room, but Tony pulls him back.

"You can't call her."

"What? Why not?"

"My heart design, that had gone through all the usual channels. Proper tests, approval by the FDA. All the hospital had to do was sign on to the next stage of testing. But this serum? It's a shot in the dark. No testing. No approval. Just my say so that it'll work. No hospital board or doctor in the country would let us do that to Steve. They'd lose their license in an instant."

"But if Steve doesn't get the serum."

"He'll die. And sooner rather than later from the looks of him."

"Then why tell me about it if we can't give Steve the serum?"

"I said a hospital couldn't give it to him. I didn't say _I_ couldn't. I've got no license to pull, and I can pay any fine they could throw at me. But I've got a question for you. How strong are you?"

* * *

Tony has a plan. 

They wake Steve, tell him about Tony's serum. Steve's weak, but lucid, and he agrees to Tony's scheme in an instant, the hope and fight returning to his eyes.

Tony hooks Steve's monitors up to a decoy system he's brought so the nurses won't see Steve's disappeared from his room until they come to check on him, and then puts several small, sticky Stark sensors in their place.

"You reading this, J?" Tony asks.

"I have a clear read of Mr. Rogers' vital signs, sir." JARVIS' voice emerges from Tony's pocket.

"You let me know if they get worse."

"I will indeed." Tony's AI sounds as concerned as any of them, and that comforts Bucky.

Bucky helps Steve out of his hospital gown and into the track pants and sweatshirt he'd brought from Steve's closet when he was feeling optimistic about him recovering from the pneumonia. Tony grabs Steve's chart and sticks it under his jacket—"My doctor friend wanted to see this" he says—then moves out to the hall. Bucky waits until he hears Tony talking to the nurses at their station, distracting them, then he hefts Steve up in his arms and carries him down the hall and onto the elevator, his head tucked against Bucky's neck. Tony's driver, Happy, is waiting for them on the main floor with a wheelchair. Bucky pushes Steve in the wheelchair and out the doors.

Even in the middle of the night, it's warm outside. It's only the end of May, but sometime while Bucky has been trapped in the hospital with Steve, spring has turned to summer.

Bucky takes a deep breath of certified New York City air, scented with exhaust and garbage and all sorts of not-so-savoury things that will always somehow mean home to Bucky, then lifts Steve into the back of Tony's limo.

Steve agreed to this crazy treatment of Tony's even before Tony had finished explaining it to him. Bucky's not surprised. What choice does Steve have, after all? An untried serum from a German scientist more than 70 years dead, or certain death as his blood gets more and more toxic. But even without his own mortality staring him in the face, Bucky knows Steve would have agreed to the treatment. A chance to never be sick again? That would mean the world to Steve.

While they wait for Tony, Bucky settles Steve more comfortably against his side. Steve takes in a laboured breath, and then relaxes with a sigh against Bucky.

Tony climbs in the front seat with Happy, leaving the privacy screen from the back down, and they set off into the dark. Happy drives east, then turns onto the FDR Parkway.

"Are we going to the Tower?" Bucky asks.

"No," Tony says. "We're going to your neighbourhood. That's where my dad's equipment is."

"Your dad's equipment is in Brooklyn?"

"I can't quite believe he left Manhattan for anything, but apparently it was the best place to tap into the city's power grid in 1942. Not that I need that now. I set the whole thing up to run off an arc reactor."

"You couldn't move the equipment to the Tower?" Bucky asks.

"Not really," Tony says. "It's a _lot_ of equipment."

With his arm around Steve, Bucky watches out of the limo's window as they make their way down the Manhattan and turn onto the Brooklyn Bridge.

"We're going home, Stevie," Bucky says to Steve, giving his shoulder a squeeze. Steve manages a weak smile.

The limo comes to a stop on a street in Prospect Heights, where hipster coffee stores rub elbows with cluttered bodegas. During the day, it's probably a busy area, but in the middle of the night it's empty of everything but parked cars. Happy parks in front of a cluttered storefront with an awning that reads "Brooklyn Antiques." It looks like no one has set foot in the store since World War II. 

Happy gets the wheelchair out of the trunk, and Bucky eases Steve into it. In the sickly light of the streetlamps, Steve is looking even more jaundiced than he was in the hospital. Bucky pushes Steve forward, craning his neck around, looking for a clinic or an office building that could house Tony's equipment. But Tony unlocks the antiques store, holds the door open, and waves Bucky inside.

The place is dimly lit and full of dusty lamps and cobwebby furniture, and Bucky thinks that this can't possibly be where Tony intends to give Steve an experimental and probably dangerous treatment.

"So, funny story," Tony says, although the expression on his face isn't at all amused. "When my dad died, and the lawyers were sorting through the truly stupid number of things he owned, they found the deed for a whole block in Brooklyn, including a run-down antique store. Which was just weird enough that I had to go look at it myself." Stark goes behind the dusty counter of the store and reaches underneath. "And one of the things I found when I was poking around and trying to figure out why the hell my dad had an antique store and a block in Brooklyn was this."

There's a click, and then the back wall of the store slides away and Bucky finds himself looking down a brightly lit corridor with a gleaming set of stainless-steel doors at the end.

"So, I asked myself, why did my dad have a superhero lair in Brooklyn?" Tony says, as he leads them down the corridor. "Or a supervillain lair? I always thought it could have gone either way with Dad."

Tony gets to the end of the corridor and holds one of the steel doors open for him to push Steve through it.

"And that's when I finally put it together with his work on Erskine's formula and found this: Howard Stark's Vita-Ray machine." He waves them inside the chamber beyond the door. "Sorry it's so…Frankenstein-y," Tony says with an apologetic shrug. 

Bucky finds himself frozen in one place, gaping at the lab in front of them. For once, he thinks that Tony Stark has actually understated things. Howard Stark's Vita-Ray machine is so much more than Frankenstein-y. It looks like something out of the Hammer Horror films Steve used to make him watch when they were kids crossed with the instrumentation of a giant-sized World War II bomber cockpit.

It's no wonder Tony couldn't move the equipment.

They're standing on a platform, looking down into a large chamber. The chamber is filled with two concentric circles of equipment banks, with dials and buttons and blinking lights. In the centre of the two circles is what looks like a coffin, but a coffin designed by Frank Lloyd Wright and decorated by the U.S. Army. It's huge and rounded and khaki green, and the top has hinged open on both sides to reveal a padded table inside. Bucky very quickly realizes that they're going to stick Steve in that coffin and he feels a little sick about it. 

A team of people he only vaguely recognizes from the Tower and must be from whatever department of Stark Industries deal with this sort of project, are buzzing around, preparing the equipment for Steve's treatment.

"Holy shit, Tony," Bucky says, once he's managed to take it all in.

"I'd say it's not as bad as it looks, but I'd probably be lying," Tony says. It's a good thing Tony never went into medicine, because his bedside manner sucks.

The chamber wasn't designed with a wheelchair in mind, so Bucky has to carry Steve down the stairs, with Steve clinging weakly to his neck. The team of people turn to watch their progress, parting to make a path for them. Bucky carefully places Steve on the padded table in the coffin. Steve looks like he's remaining conscious by sheer will power alone, which is just like Steve.

One of the people bustling around the room, a woman in green surgical scrubs, her black hair pulled back in a ponytail, approaches Tony. Tony brings her over to the coffin.

"Steve, Bucky, I'd like you to meet Dr. Helen Cho. She's a researcher specializing in genetic treatments, and she helped me produce Dr. Erskine's formula. She flew in three nights ago from Seoul."

"It's good to meet you, Steve." Dr. Cho keeps her attention on Steve. "We're almost ready for you."

Steve nods at her.

"Thank you, Dr. Cho," Bucky says.

"You'll need to take your top off, Steve," she says.

With Bucky's help, Steve shrugs out of his sweatshirt. He looks so vulnerable surrounded by all of this equipment, his skin an unnatural yellow, and the healing incisions on his chest and side standing out red and raw. Bucky has the sudden urge to call this off, to tell them Steve can't handle this, whatever it is they're going to do to him, to bundle him off to his parents' place and let his mom look after them both.

Except, if he does that, he knows Steve will be dead soon. Probably in the next 24 hours. This treatment, however scary it seems, at least gives him a chance at life.

Bucky rests his left hand lightly on Steve's chest. Steve looks down and a faint smile appears on his lips. He touches Bucky's ring.

"If I make it out of this thing alive, you owe me a new wedding ring," he says, a wistful smile on his face.

"Anything you want," Bucky says, his heart pounding in his chest, wishing the ring meant as much to Steve as it does to him. 

"You better watch out," Steve says. "I'll take you up on that."

Bucky waits while Steve struggles to get comfortable.

"You should go up to the observation booth," Dr. Cho says, looking back up the stairs to where there's a glass observation area with two rows of seats. Only a few of the seats are occupied with more people Bucky recognizes from Stark Industries.

Bucky looks back at Steve. Steve's chin is out the way it always gets when he sets his mind to something, but Bucky can also see something tentative in his eyes. Something like fear. He gives in to instinct and hugs Steve hard, burying his face in Steve's hair. Steve hugs back nearly as hard. Neither of them says a Goddamn word, and even with all the beeping of machines and murmuring of the people surrounding them, Bucky can hear Steve's breath wheezing in his ear, hear his new Stark heart beating steadily in his chest.

When he finally pulls back, Bucky turns to Dr. Cho.

"You look after him," he says to her, blinking the stinging out of his eyes. 

" _We_ will," Tony replies. He pats Bucky on the back, and then pushes him toward the stairs.

Bucky's feet feel heavy as he climbs back up the stairs, away from Steve. He wishes he could stay in the chamber, stay close to Steve, but he knows he'd be in the way, so he continues into the observation booth, barely noticing when a researcher he recognizes from the next floor down from his lab in the Tower gives him her seat in the first row. He leans forward, hands clutched together on his knees, straining to be as close as he can to Steve, willing Steve to feel his concern.

There's a speaker in the observation booth so they can hear the team in the chamber as they prepare to give Steve the treatment. Bucky concentrates on Tony's voice, on the checks he's running on various dials and meters. He keeps his eyes on Steve. From the perspective of the booth, Steve looks so small in that coffin, and Bucky has to brace himself to keep from running back down into the chamber to stay by his side.

"We're administering a muscle relaxant to start," Dr. Cho says, her voice coming through the booth's speaker strong and confident. A nurse jabs a needle in Steve's arm, and Bucky tenses as he sees Steve wince.

"Time to prep the serum," Tony says, and then he snaps open a silver metal case sitting on a cart beside the coffin. Resting inside the case are six vials of a liquid that even from the vantage of the observation booth glow with an unearthly blue light. It doesn't look like medicine. It looks like something out of an old school Star Trek episode, and Bucky feels himself tensing up even more at the thought of it being pumped into Steve's veins.

As Bucky watches, Tony carefully places each vial in a slot in the coffin, fastens a strap across Steve's torso, then folds down four metal paddles so they rest on Steve's arms and chest. Tony rests his hand for a moment on Steve's shoulder.

"This is probably going to hurt," Tony says. 

Bucky closes his hands so tightly that he can feel his nails biting into his palm, but Steve just clenches his jaw and nods. Then Tony is at the control panel, pulling down a lever that's more Frankenstein-y than anything else in the chamber. Bucky can see the blue liquid disappearing from the vials, can see Steve tense, clamping his eyes tightly shut. He feels his own breathing speed up, feels his heart beating harder in his chest. As the blue serum disappears completely, Steve jerks, his eyes opening suddenly, his mouth opening in a silent O of pain.

Bucky doesn't even realize that he's standing, that he's pressed his hand against the glass keeping him from Steve until he feels the cold hardness under his hand.

"Proceed," Dr. Cho says.

Tony presses some buttons and turns a dial. The coffin closes up with a hissing thud, hiding Steve from him, and then it's shifting on its pedestal until it's upright, looming over the whole chamber like a khaki monolith. Tony puts on a pair of insulated gloves and lifts a hose as big around as both Bucky's hands, coupling it to a socket on the side of the coffin.

There's a small window in the coffin, and Dr. Cho peers in it.

"Are you all right, Steve?" she asks, her voice full of concern.

"I'm fine," Steve says, his voice faint, but steady. "But I wish I'd gone to the bathroom."

Everyone chuckles except Bucky. He's spent too many years watching Steve deflect concern with jokes.

Dr. Cho turns away from the coffin and toward Tony.

"Now, Mr. Stark," she says calmly as she puts on a pair of darkened goggles.

Bucky's keeping his eyes on the coffin, so he doesn't see what Tony does, but a light starts to glow from inside the coffin, building in intensity until it fills the whole chamber. 

Everyone in the chamber is wearing the same darkened goggles as Dr. Cho. Everyone except Tony, who's wearing designer sunglasses. Everyone in the observation booth is squinting against the light, or turning away entirely. Bucky's blinking back tears, but he keeps his eyes on the coffin holding Steve.

A whining hum comes from the speakers in the observation booth, becoming louder and louder as the light fills the space. At first, Bucky assumes the sound is just the hum of the arc reactor Tony has powering the coffin, of the coffin itself. But then he notices another note rising with the hum. A human voice. A scream.

It takes another moment for Bucky to realize that it's Steve screaming. Steve, who Bucky's never heard scream, not once. Not when he was getting punched by bullies or recovering from surgery or doing physiotherapy that Bucky knew had to be agonizingly painful. Steve doesn't scream. Not ever. If Steve's screaming now…

Without conscious thought, Bucky throws open the door of the observation booth, barely noting when it crashes against the wall.

"Shut it down!" he shouts, his throat raw with panic. He clutches the railing at the top of the stairs so hard it hurts. "Shut it down now!"

He blinks against the light filling the chamber and sees Tony working frantically at the control panel, sees Dr. Cho running towards the upright coffin. The machine whine starts to let up and the scream stops entirely and then Bucky hears something else. A sound that is recognizably Steve's voice.

"Don't stop!" Steve yells, his voice muffled by the coffin that holds him. "I can take it!"

"Steve…" Bucky says in warning.

"It's okay, Bucky," Steve says. "I can do this." 

Tony and Dr. Cho and the whole medical team are frozen below in the chamber, looking up at him.

It's _not_ okay. Bucky can hear the cracks in Steve's voice, the fissures made by pain. But he can also hear Steve's stubbornness, his determination. He knows if he stops this now, that there's no second chance. And he knows Steve will die.

He straightens his spine and grips the railing and takes a deep breath.

"Do it," he says.

Tony nods back at him and begins working on the control panel. Bucky stays where he is on top of the platform, squinting as the light intensifies again until the whole room is nothing but a golden glow. He listens carefully for Steve's voice again, but all he hears is the deafening whine of the machine.

Bucky holds his breath, willing Steve to be all right.

When the machine noise reaches what must be its peak, when Bucky doesn't think he can bear it another second of that sound drilling into his skull, it suddenly stops.

The silence is almost as deafening as the sound was. Bucky breathes again, and he can hear the rasp in his throat, can hear a muted crackling of something in the lab, like the sound of young boys breaking ice on schoolyard puddles. Then there's a hiss and a clunk and the coffin opens up in a cloud of mist that obscures almost everything in the chamber.

Bucky sees the shock of Steve's blond hair in the coffin, sees him collapse as Tony and Dr. Cho rush to his side. He feels a shock of fear run down his neck, his back, a dread that this machine has done what 28 years of life couldn't and killed Steve. But then he sees Steve move and stand and the mist finally clears.

"Holy shit, Stevie," Bucky finally says right before all hell breaks loose. "Would you look at you."


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve gets big. Bucky can't quite believe it.

Here's the thing: Bucky has always thought Steve is beautiful. Always. Unwaveringly. Steadfastly. He can't understand why no one else can see it. Couldn't comprehend when Steve got ignored at school dances or in college bars. Still can't understand when people's eyes slide over him at gallery openings and in cocktail lounges. Half the boyfriends Steve's had have acted like they're doing him a favour being with him. Bucky hated those assholes, always privately cheered when Steve dumped them.

Even the good boyfriends, though, never seemed to realize what a great thing they had in Steve. Even the ones who appreciated how smart and talented he is never seemed to notice how _beautiful_ he is.

But now…it's like Tony's machine has made Steve's essential goodness, his beauty, visible to everyone. 

When Steve went into the coffin he was short and skinny and on death's door. Now he's as tall as Bucky and as muscular as one of those assholes who play superheroes in movies. His skin has gone from sickly yellow to healthy pink, and the incisions in his chest and side that were so red and raw a few minutes ago have disappeared entirely.

Bucky stumbles down the stairs in his eagerness to get closer to Steve, pushing his way through the medical staff who are surrounding him, silent and all looking as stunned as Bucky feels. Even Tony is looking mildly astonished, like he wasn't quite expecting what Erskine's serum and his dad's machine would do to Steve. He stops a few feet from Steve, suddenly uncertain about how close he should get, not sure if in spite of looking like a Greek god, Steve is still fragile.

"I don't hurt," Steve says, like it's the most amazing thing in the world. "Nothing hurts."

"Oh, Steve…" Bucky starts to say, then finds his throat swelling closed. It's almost too much, having Steve go from dying to…this. To being so Goddamn healthy he nearly glows with it. It's everything Bucky’s ever wanted for him. It's a miracle. 

"Bucky!" Steve closes the distance between them with two bounding steps and pulls him into a hug that's strong enough to nearly knock the air out of Bucky.

As if that's the sign everyone's needed, the room breaks out in a tumult of cheers and shouts.

Bucky hugs Steve back, clenches his eyes shut, and cries in relief.

"It worked," Bucky hears Tony say over everyone. "It actually worked." He doesn't think he's ever heard Tony Stark sound so surprised.

The next hour is utter chaos. Steve's track pants are now too short and there's no way he can fit back in his sweatshirt, but someone digs up a hoodie with the Stark Industries logo on its front that just about fits this extra-large version of Steve. Dr. Cho and her team examine him, checking temperature and blood pressure, running scans on his heart, and taking what seems like half his blood. Bucky watches as Steve gets more and more overwhelmed by the attention and the people surrounding him, until he finally puts his foot down.

"Give him a minute's peace, would ya," he practically yells. "He's a person, not a lab rat."

Even Tony looks a bit chagrined at Bucky's outburst, and he insists on them coming back to the Tower.

"I'll put you up in the guest suite for a few days," Tony tells them. "You can both rest, and we can run tests to make sure we know exactly what the hell the serum's done."

That's how Bucky finds himself back in Tony's limo, one arm thrown around a Steve who's suddenly so much bigger, but still leans into Bucky's side like the scrawny little punk he was not an hour ago.

When they arrive at the Tower, Tony takes them to a private elevator that Bucky's never seen before and up to one of his guest suites.

Bucky had expected something like a hotel room. A _nice_ hotel room, but nothing more. He should have known better. Tony's guest suite is a whole floor of the Tower, with a fully stocked kitchen, three bedrooms that are each larger than their whole apartment, and a living room whose floor-to-ceiling windows give a spectacular view of the sun breaking over the horizon of Manhattan.

"You two take it easy. Sleep. Eat. Watch a movie. I’ve got a film collection that’d make Netflix weep, and JARVIS can order you in any food you want. Can't you, J?"

"Absolutely, sir." Bucky's not sure how an AI can sound eager to please, but JARVIS manages it.

"Oh, one more thing." Tony moves in front of Steve and then holds out one hand. Bucky can see one of his sticky sensors on his fingertip. "May I?" Tony asks. "So J can monitor you, make sure nothing goes wrong."

Steve nods, and Tony unzips his hoodie and places the sensor just over his heart, then gives him an encouraging pat on the arm.

"Once you're both ready," Tony continues, "come down to the labs and we can make sure Steve's okay."

"I'm definitely okay," Steve says, his voice confident and wondering all at once.

"What about Dr. Afolabie?" Bucky asks. Steve's disappearing from the hospital is going to leave her, and everyone else who'd tried so hard to save Steve, wondering what's happened. "You need to tell her that Steve's okay."

"I'll call her myself," Tony tells them. 

"Thank you, Tony," Bucky says.

"This has absolutely been my pleasure." Tony grins. 

"You should probably get some sleep, too," Bucky tells him. Tony might be almost as happy as Bucky that the serum saved Steve, but he also still looks like he hasn't slept in days.

"I'm sure Pepper and JARVIS are conspiring to barricade me in my bedroom right now."

"I would never conspire against you, sir," the AI says immediately.

"You might not, J, but Pepper totally would," Tony says as he heads to the elevator. "You two take care."

Then he's gone, and he and Steve are alone.

He looks at Steve, still unable to believe what he's seeing, that Steve is alive and healthy and so Goddamn beautiful. He wants to hug him and never let him go, but he can also see the strain of the last few insane hours wearing at him.

"You hungry?" he asks. Steve shakes his head, and Bucky doesn't push it. He feels a bit nauseous at the thought of food himself.

There's something niggling at Bucky, something that's missing, and he finally realizes what it is.

"Do you need your glasses? We can probably get someone to pick them up from the hospital."

Steve shakes his head.

"I don't need them anymore," he says with a grin. "I can see perfectly." He leans in and gives Bucky a leer that shouldn't make Bucky blush as much as it does. He scrambles to cover up how flustered he is.

"Then we should probably both get some rest," he says to Steve. "You pick a bedroom first. I'll take one of the leftovers."

"Could we-" Steve starts to say, then cuts himself off.

"What?"

"Nothing," Steve says, biting his lip.

"It’s not nothing, Steve. Now what is it?"

"It's stupid but…I don't want to be alone. Would you mind…" He trails off and looks hopefully at Bucky. It takes a few moments for Bucky to process that Steve is asking if they can sleep together. That he seriously thinks that Bucky won't jump at the chance to stay as close as possible to him.

"I wouldn't mind at all," Bucky blurts out, then winces, hoping he hasn't shown Steve too much. After everything Steve's been through today, he doesn't want to burden him with his stupid crush. He just wants to be there for his friend.

Steve smiles the sort of smile that causes birds to sing, flower to bloom, and love-sick idiots like Bucky Barnes to write poems to the men they love. They wander down the hall together, bumping against each other just like they've always done, neither of them caring a bit about personal space where the other is concerned.

They pick the first bedroom they find, the closet stocked with clothes in both their sizes, the en suite bathroom supplied with toiletries for them both. They throw on pyjamas, brush their teeth, then Steve curls around him, Bucky completely happy to be the small spoon in this arrangement. He falls asleep to the comforting sound of Steve's steady, even, _healthy_ breathing in his ear.

* * *

When Bucky wakes, he and Steve are forehead to forehead, with Steve sleeping quietly under his arm. He eases away from Steve, careful not to disturb him, and spends a minute taking in the sight of Steve, his skin still pink and healthy, no IVs in his hand, his face relaxed in sleep. He's still half expecting this to be a dream, to wake up and find Steve still in the hospital, hooked up to too many machines and fighting to draw what might be his last breath. He resists the urge to brush the hair out of Steve's eyes, not wanting to wake him. Steve's been through so much, Bucky figures he needs every second of sleep he can get.

Instead, he snags his phone and ventures out to the living room. The day’s light is fading outside the floor to ceiling windows, casting long shadows across the Manhattan skyline below him and telling Bucky he’s missed most of the day.

He flops on the couch, and checks his phone, finding screens and screens of message notifications. Tony must have not only called Dr. Afolabie, but everyone they knew. There’s everything from a short _wtf_ text from Dugan to a longer confused and congratulatory email from Sam to a rambling, slightly hysterical voicemail message from his mom that ends with her begging him to call home.

He calls his mom right away. He feels horrible for not having called her sooner, but supposes he can be excused for having other things on his mind.

"Bucky?" his mom answers, sounding every bit as hysterical as she had in her message. "What's going on? Tony Stark called me, and I was so afraid that he was going to tell me that Steve was dead, but he said he's fine. How can he be fine?"

"Calm down, Mom." Bucky wishes they were in Brooklyn right now, so he could comfort his mom in person, show her that Steve really is okay, even though he can still hardly believe it himself. But he's not in Brooklyn. He's in Tony Stark's guest suite, so he tries his best to convince her that Steve is alive and healthy.

"I need to see him," she finally says. "I'll believe it when I see it."

So, Bucky hangs up and switches over to Face Time as he's walking down the hall. His mom's face, anxious and hopeful, appears on the phone as he reaches the bedroom door.

Steve is still sleeping, still alive, still healthy, and still bigger than he has any right to be, when Bucky pushes the door open. He's grabbed Bucky's pillow and is hugging it like an overly large teddy bear. He wakes when Bucky sits beside him, blinking up at Bucky.

"Mom wants to see you," Bucky says softly to him. "To make sure you're really okay."

Steve blinks and sits up, and the happy smile on his face makes something catch in Bucky's chest.

Bucky turns the phone to face Steve, and Steve reaches out for it.

"Hey, Winnie," he says. 

"Steve?" Winifred Barnes' voice is choked with emotion, making Bucky blink back tears of his own. "Oh my God, Steve. You're really alive. George, he's alive!" She cries and fusses over Steve, while Steve tries to assure her he's fine. George Barnes is slightly more stoic, but when Bucky slides over to sit beside Steve so they can both see his parents, he can see his dad's eyes are watery.

"It's a miracle," his mom says. "Tony Stark gave you a miracle."

"I know," Steve says, and he still looks like he can't believe it. Which makes sense. Bucky still can't believe it either. 

"Call your sister," is the last thing his mom says before they hang up. "She's been crying all week."

They call Becks. And Natasha. And Dugan. And everyone. Everyone they know, everyone who's been concerned about Steve, everyone who came to the hospital to visit and has been expecting the worst. Their friends are elated at the news of Steve's recovery, and the calls are somehow both uplifting and draining all at once.

After they talk to Morita, they have JARVIS order them Thai food. When Bucky is talking to Sam, JARVIS informs them their food has arrived, and Steve retrieves two large bags of Thai takeout from the elevator. Steve somehow demolishes two orders of Curry Pad Thai all by himself, and they both finish off the coconut mango chicken. When Steve yawns and Bucky declares himself ready to keel over, they crawl off to bed. This time there's no doubt that they'll share the same room, and they end up nestled together, with Steve the small spoon this time. Bucky has the best sleep he's had in weeks. Maybe months. Maybe forever.

* * *

The next morning, 24 hours after Steve went into Howard Stark's Vita-Ray machine in Brooklyn, they're both ready to face the world. Or, at least Tony Stark and whatever tests he wants to run on Steve.

"JARVIS," Bucky asks after they've eaten breakfast, with Steve demolishing more eggs and bacon than he could have eaten in a week before. "Is Tony ready for us?"

"He is waiting for you in the lab, Mr. Barnes," JARVIS says, ever polite. "He's informed me you're welcome to join him any time you're ready."

When they arrive in the lab, Tony is looking so much better than he had the last time they'd seen him. The bruises under his eyes are almost entirely gone, his hair isn't standing on end and his beard is neatly trimmed and shaved.

"If it isn't my favourite cyborg and his husband," Tony says, his smile bright and welcoming. "JARVIS told me you were on the way. Dr. Cho will be happy to see you."

Bucky stays by Steve's side as Tony and Dr. Cho ("Call me Helen") run more tests and take more blood and generally try to figure out exactly what Dr. Erskine's formula did and if Steve is really as healthy as he seems. It's a long day, with lunch a plate of sandwiches (really delicious sandwiches) served by Tony's robot, Dum-E.

By the time Tony kicks them out of the lab, he and Steve are both wilting. They make it back to their guest suite, and this time they get JARVIS to order them sushi. 

"I wonder if we can stay here until we've worked our way through all of Manhattan's take out options," Steve asks around a mouthful of dragon roll. 

"I'm sure Mr. Stark would be happy to have you as guests as long as you like," JARVIS says.

Bucky is so very tempted to take JARVIS up on that offer, to stay here in their little luxury cocoon, just him and Steve.

They curl up on the couch around each other, and get JARVIS to pull up Tony's film collection. He really does have more movies than all the streaming services combined. They decide a '70s cop flick is what they're in the mood for, so they pick _The French Connection_ and settle in to watch Gene Hackman take out drug dealers in 1970s NYC.

"Fuck, I didn't remember they shot this in Bensonhurst," Bucky says as Hackman screams through the streets in an appropriated Pontiac. "The city really was a shithole back then, wasn't it?"

"Yeah, but it's our shithole," Steve says, nudging him with an elbow before he snuffles into his neck. Bucky throws an arm around him. When the movie ends, they crawl off to bed in the same bedroom again, and fall asleep tangled together one more night.

* * *

The next morning, when Tony calls them back to the lab, they find Dr. Afolabie standing beside Tony waiting for them.

Throughout everything they've gone through the last few months, Dr. Afolabie has been one of the few constants in their lives. Bucky's counted on her to be calm and professional in the face of all the things that have tried to kill Steve. But now he witnesses that composed façade crack.

Her eyes go to Steve, and then she gasps and her hands come up to cover her mouth. Fortunately, Tony seems to have been ready for her reaction, and he steers her to a chair immediately. Steve is at her side right away, kneeling beside her, hunching his shoulders like he's trying to be as small as he was just two days ago.

"I thought you were lying to me," she says to Tony, her voice thick with emotion. "That you were covering up a failure. But he's alive."

"I'm alive," Steve says, giving her his biggest smile.

It takes a few minutes for Dr. Afolabie to regain her composure. Dum-E brings her a cup of tea, then hovers at her side like a nervous, robotic dog. Steve stays kneeling beside her, answering all of her questions and smiling every time she stops to wonder that he's really and truly still alive.

"You don't know what it means, to me, not losing another patient." She turns to Tony. "And knowing that there's a chance we can save even more with what you did for Steve." Her expression becomes more serious. "After the procedure has gone through the proper approval process, of course," she says.

"Next time, I'll follow the rules," Tony says with a laugh.

"I'm glad he didn't this time, though," Steve says, more seriously, and Bucky can't help but squeeze his shoulder.

With Dr. Afolabie there, Steve's pulled in for more tests, more scans, and Bucky begins to feel antsy, pacing as the doctors and Tony put Steve through his paces. After lunch, _pollo_ and salmon and flan from Tony's favourite Cuban restaurant, Tony finally takes him aside.

"There's not much you can do here. Why don't you go down to your lab?" he tells Bucky. "We'll look after Steve for you, and I think Wilson's been missing you." 

Bucky hesitates. He knows Steve is doing well, he really does. But there's still a not-at-all-deeply buried part of him that believes if he lets Steve out of his sight for even an instant, then maybe it'll turn out that this was all a dream and he'll wake up to find Steve's still sick, still dying. He glances over to where Steve is laughing at something Dr. Afolabie has said, and accepting his own cup of tea from Dum-E, and he looks so Goddamn happy that it's like a punch to Bucky's chest.

"Okay," he agrees, and he does, after making Steve promise to text him if he needs anything.

"I'm fine," Steve says as he puts his arm around Bucky's shoulder.

"You say that even when you're not," Bucky says.

"Yeah, but now I really am." Steve smiles at him, and Bucky really isn't over looking at the blue of Steve's eyes without the interference of his Coke bottle glasses. He must stand there, staring at Steve for longer than he realizes, because Steve finally pushes him toward the elevator. "Now, go. Say hi to Sam. Tell him to come over tonight and we'll order pizza and watch a stupid comedy."

So, Bucky goes, even as he feels like he's leaving a piece of himself in Tony's lab. But as soon as he steps in his own lab and Sam turns and gives him a brilliant, gap-toothed smile, he realizes how much he's missed seeing his co-worker and friend.

Sam gives him a hug nearly as strong as Steve's first post-serum hug had been.

"How's the husband?" Sam finally asks him when they stop pounding each other on the back.

" _Steve_ is fine. No, scratch that. He's great. You can see him tonight. We're staying at the Tower and he told me to invite you for pizza tonight."

"Oh, you're staying at the Tower, huh." Sam gives him a _look_ of the sort he usually reserves for people he thinks are full of shit. "Did _Tony_ give you a personal invitation?"

"That's Mr. Stark, to you, buddy," Bucky says with a laugh. 

"You are such an asshole," Sam says. "And besides, Stark told _me_ to call him Tony when you were stuck in the hospital. We're bros. Though he's still got shitty taste in music." Sam rolls his eyes.

"How's the project going?"

"Great. The prototype is solid, and there's a manufacturing plan. Tony's talked about handing it over to marketing soon."

"Okay, show me what you've got."

They spend the afternoon cheerfully doing a post mortem on the battery design and spitballing new project ideas to pitch to Tony. As it gets close to 5, Bucky looks up and realizes how content he is. He's back doing the job he loves, with the best co-worker and friend he could ask for, and the constant worry he's felt about Steve for the last few months has almost completely evaporated.

"Well, don't you look like the cat who ate a whole flock of canaries," Sam says, and that only makes Bucky smile wider.

"Sorry, Sam. I can't help it. I'm just…happy." He leans into that feeling, enjoying it while he can.

"You really are going to have a story for the grandkids."

That brings Bucky back down from the clouds a little.

"I keep telling you, it's not like that. We're only friends."

"Uh huh." Sam raises an eyebrow at him.

"Well, what about you? How is the lovely Natasha?"

Sam's face breaks into a blindingly sunny smile, and Bucky realizes that Sam and Nat are having more than just a casual fling. 

"I think _you're_ the one who's going to have the story for the grandkids. 

"It ain't like that," Sam says, ducking his head, and wow, Bucky can see a blush forming on his dark cheeks.

"Wow, Sam. Natasha, huh?" Bucky feels a small stab of jealousy, a slight pinch of resentment that Sam's got with Natasha what he desperately wants with Steve. But that's not fair to either Sam _or_ Steve, so he pushes the feeling away and gives Sam a friendly punch on the arm, trying to feel happy for the pair of them. "Just do me a favour and don't let her eat you alive."

"She's not like that," Sam says, punching him back. "She's…sweet."

"Are we talking about the same woman? Natasha Romanoff? Scary as hell? Probably worked for the KGB in a former lifetime?"

"I'm going to tell her you said all that," Sam teases.

"Don't you dare. She'll call in her KGB henchmen and I'll never be seen again."

"I don't think she'd need to call anyone for help disappearing your ass," Sam says with a laugh.

"So, you admit she's scary!" 

"I'm not admitting nothing."

"Well, you should call your not-at-all-scary girlfriend and invite her over for pizza, too. I know Steve would love to see her.

And that's how they all end up piled on the huge couch in Tony Stark's guest suite, eating a pizza from a joint that JARVIS tells them is Tony's favourite place and that Bucky has to admit is just as good as Franny's in Brooklyn, watching the Marx Brothers create chaos in Freedonia. 

He could watch Steve throw back his head and laugh like an idiot all day for the rest of his life. And he's delighted to find out Natasha snorts when she laughs. He's less delighted when Natasha threatens his life if he tells anyone while Steve gives him a knowing smirk. 

They finish _Duck Soup_ , and start _A Night at the Opera_ , and Bucky ends up slouched against Steve as Sam and Natasha curl together on the couch.

It's a good night, even if Sam keeps turning to Bucky and mouthing "grandkids" when no one else is looking.

* * *

The next morning, Bucky drops Steve off at Tony's lab for what Tony swears will be the last day of tests, then heads down to work with Sam. He throws himself into his work and giving Sam shit about Natasha, while tolerating Sam giving him shit about Steve.

Just before noon, Bucky's phone chirps at him, and he looks down to find a text from Tony.

_get down here. u gotta c this_ followed by at least ten surprise emojis.

_is steve okay?_ he texts back immediately, the fear that Steve's not as cured as everyone seems to think bubbling back up from the depths where it's been hiding. 

_he's better than okay,_ Tony responds. _get down here now. we're in the gym. bring wilson_

Bucky's got no clue why Tony has Steve in the gym, but he grabs Sam and they head down to the Stark Industries gym that's open to all staff, from the CEO to the cashiers in the cafeteria. The gym is always busy at lunch, but when they arrive they have to work their way through a crowd, some of them in workout gear, some in suits or lab coats.

"What the hell is going on?" Bucky asks a woman he's seen on the treadmills before.

"Mr. Stark has some kind of superhero in there," she says. "I've never seen anything like it."

Bucky feels a spike of anxiety at her words and pushes through faster, only dimly aware of Sam apologizing to everyone he pushes out of his way. He wonders what the hell Tony's thinking, bringing Steve to the gym when it sounds like there's some sort of Special Forces goon down here, a leftover, maybe, from when Tony still made and sold weapons.

But when he finally makes his way to the centre of the crowd, he doesn't find a goon, just Tony and Steve. Tony's wearing his usual black jeans and rock t-shirt, and Steve is wearing shorts and an SI t-shirt that looks like it belongs to a guy two sizes smaller than Steve is now.

"Watch this, Bucky," Steve says, then without warning he effortlessly snatch lifts a barbell with so much weight on it that it's sagging at the ends. He holds it triumphantly over his head for what seems like forever to Bucky, and then drops it with a booming thud and a satisfied grin.

"Holy shit," Sam says behind him.

"Four hundred pounds, ladies and gentlemen," Tony says to the cheering crowd. "And he's only getting started."

"How about that, Bucky?" Steve says, his chest proudly puffed out, the grin still on his face. But when Bucky doesn't say anything, the grin begins to fade. "Buck?"

At first, Bucky can't speak over the wash of anxious static filling his brain. But then a wave of red anger clears out the static and he finds his voice.

"What the fuck, Steve?!" he roars. "You were nearly dead four days ago, and now you're doing this? Are you trying to kill yourself?" He rounds on Tony. "And what the hell are you doing, encouraging him?"

Steve's expression changes in an instant from proud to contrite, but he steps in front of Tony, putting one hand on Bucky's chest, as Sam starts herding the crowd out of the gym.

"Don't blame Tony," Steve says. "He wanted to get a baseline on my strength, but I was the one who wanted to see how far I could go."

And _of course_ it was Steve's idea to risk the improved body Tony's given him by doing something stupid. When he thinks about it, Bucky's not sure why he didn't see this coming. Steve's always pushed the limits of what he could do. Why would he change now?

Bucky's anger and panic deflates, and he realizes he's just yelled at one of the richest men on the planet who also happens to be his boss.

"Sorry, Tony. I just…" he doesn't even know how to finish that sentence.

"No problem, Bucky." Tony's smile is easy and completely devoid of any resentment. "I understand. And if it makes you feel any better, this was Steve's last test. Well, not the lifting the weight of a small motorcycle over his head part, but the functional strength test we were doing before your hubby decided to go all extreme powerlifting."

Bucky glances over at Steve, who's smart enough to give Bucky an abashed smile.

"And what was the result of all these tests?"

"Well, we have to wait for lab results on some of them, but I think I can confidently say that Steve Rogers is as healthy as a massive horse, and we can clear him to go home." Tony's expression changes, turns into something tentative. "Unless you want to stay at the Tower for a few more days. Just to be sure," he finishes in a rush. 

"I want to go home," Steve says without even a moment's hesitation, then turns to Bucky. "Let's go home, Buck."

Steve's expression, both vulnerable and guarded, yearning and determined, punches a hole in Bucky's gut. It's a look that strikes Bucky as far too intimate for this place, even if it's now only Tony and Sam in the gym with them.

As if he can read Bucky's mind, Tony nudges Sam, and they leave Steve and Bucky alone, surrounded by weights and equipment.

"Are you sure you're okay to go home?" Bucky asks, reaching a hand tentatively out to touch Steve's arm. They've been through so much, Bucky's afraid that the normality they seem finally to have reached might be snatched away from him yet again.

Steve takes firm hold of his hand.

"I'm absolutely sure." Steve stares at him, and it feels like Steve's opening up to him in ways he's never done before. Steve opens his mouth to speak, and Bucky thinks maybe this is when it happens, maybe this is when Steve tells him he feels the same way that Bucky does. But then Tony comes back and Steve's jaw snaps shut.

"So," Tony says, "I know you want to go home, and you totally can, right now, right this minute, but Pepper and I have been talking, and we were wondering if it would be okay to have dinner party for you before you go. Nothing big, just family and friends."

The way Tony is looking at them, he doesn't look like one of the richest men in the world. He looks earnest and tentative, like he's afraid they might turn down his offer of hospitality. Bucky wonders how many friends, good friends, _real_ friends, Tony has, and how he and Steve have somehow moved onto that list.

He turns to Steve, and he can see some of his thoughts reflected in Steve's eyes.

"Whaddaya think, Stevie?" Bucky says. "Are you ready for a dinner party and a lot of nosy questions from our friends and family?"

"Sure." Steve's smile is crooked and bright. "Since when do that bunch _not_ ask a lot of nosy questions?"

Tony's shoulders relax.

"Okay, J," Tony says, "tell Pepper that Operation Party Planner is a go."


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve comes home. Bucky struggles to get things back to normal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, these two idiots will get their happy ending. But this isn't quite it...

Tony's dinner party is a huge success. Winnie Barnes mothers everyone, including Tony Stark. Since she's introduced every one of them to various gallery owners, Steve's art school friends follow Pepper Potts around Tony's penthouse suite like overly large ducklings. And Becks refuses to let Steve out of her sight, even when Tony is talking to her about how her internship is going. Bucky doesn't blame her. It's not like he isn't doing the same thing himself.

As healthy as Steve seems to be, as soon as his energy starts to flag, Bucky signals Tony, and Tony shuts the party down. He kicks Dugan and the gang out, slips Natasha and Sam the key to another one of his guest suites, and assigns one of his drivers to take the Barnes family home. While Tony's busy, Bucky makes Steve promise not to go lifting the weight of a small vehicle over his head, or do anything else stupid once they get home, and Steve agrees, mostly without a fight. By the time Happy drops them off at their apartment, after a quick stop at their favourite bodega (the one with _two_ cats) for milk and bread and cream for their coffee, Bucky feels like life is as good as he could hope for. 

Except for the part where he and Steve head off to sleep in their own rooms, anyway. 

He very nearly asks Steve if he wants to share a bed with him one last night, but his courage fails him at the last moment. He deludes himself that Steve's slight hesitation before he gives Bucky a final "Good night" at the threshold of his bedroom is him struggling to ask the same thing. But there's so little chance of that that Bucky doesn't say anything but "Good night," back.

They both close their doors, and Bucky spends sleepless hours staring at his ceiling while his brain churns over so many conflicting emotions. How he's thrilled Steve is home and healthy, and how he's afraid that Steve won't need him anymore. How desperately he loves Steve, and how terrified he is that he'll lose him completely if he tells him.

When his alarm goes off the next morning, he's tired enough that he's barely thinking at all, let alone thinking about Steve. He slams the alarm off after only one snooze cycle, wanders down the hall in his boxers and a ratty Wu Tang t-shirt with a pulled neck and holes in it, and then stops short at the entrance to the kitchen.

Steve is staring into space at the kitchen table, hunched over a cereal bowl, his hair standing on end, looking not much more awake than Bucky feels, as the smell of coffee suffuses the kitchen. Even sleepy and bedraggled, Steve looks healthy and beautiful, and Bucky takes in a deep breath and thanks God, the Stark clan, the late Dr. Erskine and current Dr. Cho for the continued existence of Steve Rogers on this planet. He may have had five days to get used to giant-sized, healthy Steve in Stark Tower, but this is the first day he's woken up with Steve in their own apartment, and somehow that makes it even more real.

When he finally notices Bucky, Steve straightens up and smiles around a mouthful of cereal in a way that makes Bucky's heart stutter in his chest, and the stupid hope he harbours about the two of them flutter back to life.

"'Morning," Steve says, his smile not dimming one bit. "I figured you'd need a jump start after Tony's party, so I put the coffee on."

"Thanks," Bucky says, sitting with a graceless thud as he stares at Steve and waits for the last gurgling of the coffee maker to finish. He weirdly can't think of a thing to say to Steve, but that doesn't seem to matter. They just sit, staring stupidly at each other until the coffee's ready, and then they spend some more time staring stupidly at each other as they pour caffeine into their bodies.

At some point he shakes himself into motion and pushes himself to get ready for work so he isn't too late on his first official full day back being gainfully employed. He throws on his favourite suit, lets Steve adjust his Apollo tie, and then gives him a hug before he heads for the subway.

"You should take it easy for a few more days," Bucky tells Steve as he's heading down the hallway to the elevator.

"I've been doing nothing _but_ take it easy for months," Steve says, his voice holding more than a trace of rebellion.

Bucky knows trouble when he hears it. He turns around and walks backwards to the elevator keeping his gaze firmly locked with Steve's.

"You've been _nearly dying_ for months. Don't go undoing all of Stark's work. He won't be very happy."

"I'll be fine, Buck."

"And I'll be annoyed."

"I'm a grown up, Buck. I can look after myself." 

" _Annoyed_ , Steve."

"Well, I guess I better take it easy, then. I wouldn't want you to be _annoyed_." 

"God, you are such a little shit," Bucky says as he hears the elevator ding behind him.

"Not so little anymore!" Steve's grin is so infectious that Bucky can't help returning it.

He's in a great mood all day, even when Sam picks apart the new designs they've been working on and they've got to restart them from scratch. Even when Tony shows up in the lab to argue classic rock versus hip hop with Sam for what is, according to Sam, the five millionth time. Even when his train home is delayed and he winds up squashed in a corner of a car with no air conditioning, stuck between some jock's knapsack and a young woman's sharp-cornered handbag.

He's in the best mood ever when he finally arrives home and finds that Steve hasn't been lifting motorcycles or running triathalons, that he's only been cleaning up his work area and poking a bit at the painting he'd started before he collapsed that last time. Steve not working himself into the ground the first chance he gets is a miracle on a level with his recovery from near death, and it makes Bucky feel ecstatic.

"I have had the best day," Bucky says as Steve looks up at him, a smear of green paint on one cheek. "How about we go out to celebrate?"

* * *

For two weeks, Bucky feels like he's walking on air, what with Steve being miraculously Not Dead and seemingly as pleased to be sharing Bucky's company as Bucky is to share his. They haven't gone back to sharing a bed, and Bucky's given up seriously thinking about asking for that, but they spend every evening squashed together on their couch, watching dumb action films or dumber comedies. A couple of times, after a long day, they've even fallen asleep together on the couch, and Bucky's woken up long after midnight with Steve drooling on his shoulder. (Bucky absolutely does not find this adorable in any way.)

But the thing about miracles is, after a while they stop being miraculous and start being just how life is. Steve's is Not Dead. Bucky works for, and is somehow friends with, Tony Stark. Life goes on. And even with Steve being Not Dead, life isn't always perfect.

Their building's super pulls a disappearing act the day before their kitchen sink springs a leak, which leads to Steve's botched attempt at fixing it, and a long FaceTime call to George Barnes to figure out how to solve the new problem Steve's created. ("I don't know how I snapped the pipe!" Steve says multiple times. "Honest!") Bucky resigns himself to living in a world where Steve accidentally breaks things because he doesn't realize how strong he is.

After taking a week to mostly relax, Steve starts looking for work, and finds it more difficult than after his first surgery. Natasha gives him an assignment right away, of course, but after two near-death experiences and a series of blown deadlines, more than one former client is reluctant to hire Steve. It's no problem for Bucky to cover the rent, it never has been, but Steve starts his usual bullshit about not pulling his weight.

Then they're out one warm summer night, picking up milk from the bodega because Bucky used it up and Steve forgot to get it when he went out for groceries, and Steve links arms with him as they walk down the street. Bucky has all of 30 seconds to enjoy the feeling of Steve at his side before some asshole walking past calls them "a couple of fags." Bucky's pulse spikes because he knows how this script reads. Steve goes ballistic and the guy tries to beat him up and Bucky steps in to back Steve up and they both end up a little bruised. Except he's forgotten for a moment that Steve's not small anymore. All Steve has to do is loom over the guy with his new height and muscles and the idiot backs down immediately. After the asshole scurries off, Steve turns to Bucky with the biggest surprised grin on his face, like he can't believe what he can do. 

Bucky has a brief moment of relief before he realizes now he has a whole new problem. After this success at cowing a bully, he wouldn't put it past Steve to go looking for more assholes to deal with, an LGBT+ superhero safeguarding the streets of Brooklyn from homophobes and sexist jerks. He pulls Steve back to his side and growls "Don't you dare go looking for fights," in his ear.

"I don't go looking for fights. They find me," Steve says, giving him an innocent look that's not at all convincing. It'd be just like Steve to become the Crown Heights Avenger or Captain Brooklyn, running around the neighbourhood with tights and a shield and a star in the middle of his chest.

"I bet they do." Bucky keeps a tight hold on Steve all the way back home, and if it's an excuse to stay close to Steve, he's not going to admit it to anyone but himself.

Bucky may have given up on ever asking Steve to be his boyfriend, but it doesn't mean he's stopped hoping for it to happen. He's still wearing his fake wedding ring, after all, equal parts hoping Steve will ask him why he doesn't take the cheap piece of glass off his finger and dreading what he'll say in response.

* * *

After a few more weeks of home and life and Steve looking for work, Tony invites them both to a July 4th party on the roof of the Tower. 

At first, Bucky thinks it'll be fun. They'll get to hang out with both their friends and the elite of New York society, and Tony's confessed to him that he has a birthday cake and a surprise for Steve's birthday. ("I've never had a friend with a birthday on the 4th of July before," Tony tells him. "I can't not make a fuss over him.") But for Bucky, the party starts to unravel early.

Being friends with Steve, parties have always been awkward. From grade school to college, Steve always got overlooked, and Bucky always hated it. But new and improved Steve definitely doesn't get overlooked. He has men _and_ women flirting with him all evening, and at least one phone number gets slipped into his pocket. 

Bucky knows he should feel glad that Steve is finally getting the sort of attention he's always deserved, but he can't stop the slow burn of jealousy he feels sliding down his throat with every swallow of the special bourbon cocktail that Tony made him personally.

Then Steve goes to get a drink at the bar and ends up chatting with a handsome, dark-haired man for fifteen minutes. The whole fifteen minutes, Bucky talks to Dugan and Morita, trying to concentrate on what they're saying about art shows they have coming up, and to ignore every time he sees Steve smile at the other man, or laugh at his jokes. He tries to be happy for Steve; he really does. He's always wanted this, for other people to notice how beautiful Steve is, but now that it's happening he hates it.

"You get his number?" he asks when Steve gets back to where they're all sitting, close enough to the edge of the building that Bucky feels a slight shudder of vertigo. He hopes he sounds more supportive than he feels.

"Nah," Steve says with a shrug. "He seemed like a nice enough guy. But I told him I was married." Steve pulls Bucky close, and drops a quick kiss on his forehead.

Bucky fights not to go stiff in Steve's hold, even while hope wars with jealousy in his mind.

He's still struggling with the jealousy, and struggling to hide it from Steve, when Tony has the birthday cake for Steve rolled out. It's a good distraction, watching the celebrities who've been drawn to the party by the promise of Tony Stark's hospitality sing Happy Birthday to some kid from Brooklyn they don't even know. Bucky cheers with Dugan and Sam and their friends as Steve blows out the candles on the cake, and he's smiling when Tony comes over to them all holding a small gift-wrapped box.

"Happy birthday, Steve," Tony says, holding the box out to Steve.

"I can't take anything from you," Steve says, his hands up. "You've already done too much for me."

"Take the damn present, Rogers," Tony says, and thrusts it into his hands.

Steve surrenders gracefully, and starts opening the gift.

"What is this?" he asks, frowning at the white plastic card with the SI logo emblazoned on it. 

Bucky knows what it is, but he lets Tony explain.

"That, my not-so-little cyborg, is a Stark Industries employee card."

"But I'm not-" Steve starts to say.

"And it's meant for the newest member of the SI marketing team." He beams at Steve, even as Steve stares at him in amazement. "How about it, Rogers? Do you want to work for me? You can commute in to Manhattan with the hubby." Tony grabs Bucky's shoulder and gives him a little shake.

"I don't… know what to say." Steve looks honestly stunned.

"Say yes! Really, you'd be doing me a favour. Natasha told Pepper you're a genius, and Pepper agrees, and I do what Pepper tells me to."

"Then… yes!"

Tony has had waiters hovering around their little group with champagne glasses, and they all toast Steve's new job. Steve looks so happy, and why wouldn't he? The job is everything he could want: a good salary, great benefits, and interesting work. Of course, Steve's happy.

Bucky, however, is not.

He knows he's being an asshole, but all he can see in Tony's hiring Steve is the end of any hope he has for a happy ending. 

If Steve has his own Stark Industries gold standard health insurance, there's no reason in the world that he still needs to be fake married to Bucky Barnes. He'll fall in love with someone who appreciates how wonderful he is, someone more than a best friend he's never thought of romantically. He'll ask Bucky for a divorce, and probably find his own place, now that he can afford something more than a roach-infested studio on his own. They'll still be best friends, but they'll see each other less and less frequently, their lives taking them in different directions.

And however much it hurts, Bucky will let it happen, because Steve deserves every happiness that life puts in his path. But he selfishly hopes it won't happen any time soon. So, he forces a smile on his face and drinks Tony's expensive champagne along with everyone else, the alcohol sitting heavily in his stomach. And when they get home late that night, he gives Steve his birthday present, a custom-made, monogrammed leather pencil case that had seemed perfect when he found it on Etsy, and now seems so inadequate next to what Tony Stark has given him.

* * *

It only takes them a week to fall into a new routine, commuting to Stark Tower together as Steve gets used to his new job, meeting in the tower's lobby every evening to make their way home again. By Friday, they're both exhausted and ready for a quiet night in, just the two of them, the couch and Netflix. They pick up a six pack of Brooklyn Lager on the way home, Bucky orders pizza, and they settle on the couch to watch as many Fast and Furious films as they can manage before they fall asleep. 

At this moment, Steve is slumped against his side as some kid who isn't Vin Diesel drifts a sports car through the streets of Tokyo. Bucky is pleasantly full of pizza, a little bit drunk, and he leans back against Steve, giving him a friendly nudge.

Bucky is so relaxed, he doesn't even startle when Steve reaches out and grabs hold of his left hand, giving it a little squeeze. It's Steve, after all. He doesn't mean anything by it, and Bucky tells himself he's stopped hoping that he does.

Steve runs his thumb against the ring still on Bucky's finger.

"You still owe me a new one of these," Steve says, his voice warm and easy, but Bucky feels a stab of pain at the words. He pulls his hand away.

"Don't tease me, Stevie," he says. The words are sharper than he intended, and he shatters the easy mood of the evening. He feels Steve stiffen and then pull away, leaving a foot of cold, empty space between them.

"I'd never tease you," Steve says. His voice sounds tight. "Not about anything that mattered. You know that, right?"

And yeah, Bucky does know that. Just as he knows the reverse is true. He'd never tease Steve, never knowingly hurt him over anything that matters. Except now Bucky clearly _has_ hurt Steve, and he's not exactly sure how or why.

They settle back into the movie, but it's not as comfortable as it was before. Bucky's shoulders are tight, and he can see Steve out of the corner of his eye, his head too far forward on his neck, the hand that had held Bucky's picking compulsively at the fabric of the couch.

When the movie ends, neither of them suggests watching Fast and Furious 4, and they both head to their separate bedrooms without a glance and with only softly spoken "good nights." Bucky lies on his back in the dark, staring at the ceiling, his mind racing, worried that he's going to drive Steve away without meaning to, that it'll be entirely his fault when he has to take off the wedding ring for good.

* * *

It's a week later, another Friday night after another busy week, when Bucky's life finally shatters to pieces around him.

Bucky and Sam have gotten behind on their new project, so they stay late getting a report on the first phase ready for Tony. By the time Bucky gets home, he's exhausted. His plans for the night involve eating peanut butter from the jar and face planting on his bed, but before he can even kick off his shoes or take off his coat, he hears Steve's voice from the living room.

"Bucky?"

"Yeah, Steve." Bucky pokes his head into the living room. Steve had texted when he left the Tower, so Bucky knows he's been home for hours. He figures he'll find Steve in shorts and a t-shirt, sitting on the couch, with Netflix and an anchovy pizza. (Bucky hates anchovies, so Steve only gets them when Bucky's not around.) Instead, Steve is still wearing his work clothes – chinos, and a button-down linen shirt in a blue that Bucky has told him more than once brings out the colour of his eyes – and there are two glasses of wine sitting on the coffee table, one nearly empty, one full, and six flickering candles scattered around the room, giving it a golden light.

Bucky feels a wash of panic. Steve must have a date here. He hasn't mentioned seeing anyone, but this is not a regular Friday night with your roommate set up.

"Sorry, Steve," he stutters out. "I can go if you-" He waves at the wine glasses and candles.

"If I what?" Steve looks confused.

"I can leave you alone with your date." It's not what they usually do. Neither of them has ever kicked out the other person when they've had a date over. But right now, Bucky's feeling raw. He doesn't want to watch Steve falling for someone who isn't him.

"Oh! No." Steve scrambles to his feet. "I don't have a date. I just…" He stumbles to a stop, then clenches his hands at his side. "I know it's been a long week for you, and you've looked after me so much this year, I thought I'd look after you." He waves in the direction of the kitchen. "I made a lasagna. Though it might be a bit dried out by now." 

"I love lasagna," Bucky says, and his own voice sounds strange to him, strained and tense.

"I know." Steve doesn't quite sound himself either as he heads to the kitchen. "Let me get you a plate."

Bucky walks into the living room without taking off his shoes, loosens his tie, and drapes his blazer over the back of the couch. He feels like he's wandered into an alternate dimension where he and Steve dress formally for dinner instead of sitting in front of the TV eating pizza off paper towels.

He hears the oven opening and the clatter of plates, and then Steve is coming back into the room with a plate loaded with a huge piece of lasagna and a side salad.

"Salad, Steve? Jeez, what is it? My birthday?"

"It's just mixed greens and dressing from a bottle. Nothing fancy."

"Right," Bucky snorts, then takes a bite of lasagna. "That's…good." Not that he means to question Steve's cooking skills, but neither of them is exactly a whiz in the kitchen.

"Got the recipe from your mom."

"That explains it." He takes another bite, and then realizes Steve doesn't have a plate of his own. "Did you already eat?"

"Yeah, sort of." Steve fiddles with the wine glass in front of him, finishes the last of the wine in it, then fiddles with it some more, and that's when Bucky realizes Steve's nervous.

Bucky swallows the food in his mouth, and finds it's become as tasteless as sand. He's not sure what this is all about, but he's absolutely certain this is not just Steve being nice to him because it's been a long week. 

He sets his fork deliberately on his plate with a clink, then puts the plate carefully on the coffee table.

"What's going on, Steve?" he says.

"I thought it was time we finally talk." Steve takes careful hold of his left hand, and strokes his thumb over the glass ring Bucky still has on his finger. "About this."

The look on Steve's face is distant, assessing, and Bucky feels a cold shudder pass down his spine. Steve may not have met anyone yet, may not have a date hiding in the bedroom, but Bucky knows deep in his bones that this is the moment when he finally tells Bucky he wants to dissolve their fake marriage. And no matter that he told Becks that he'd do whatever Steve wanted once he was healthy again, he's not ready to hear those words.

"What about it?" Bucky feels like there's someone else driving his body, speaking the words coming out of his mouth.

"I have something to ask you. But I can't do it while you're wearing this," Steve says, his tone as serious as his voice.

Whatever Bucky was going to say freezes in his throat, and the ring suddenly feels like a burden, weighing him down with dead hopes and expectations.

He struggles to pull the ring off, his hands gone shaky as a surge of adrenaline hits his bloodstream. He's clumsy and awkward and somehow the ring snaps in his fingers as it comes off his finger. He's left staring in horror at the broken pieces laying in his palm, shards that now match the fragments of Steve's ring, still sitting in the velvet bag stashed in his night stand.

His eyes flick up, and Steve is staring at the ring as well, his brow knitted in a frown, his mouth partly open in what might be surprise. For nearly the first time in his life, Bucky looks at Steve and can't read his mood. He can't tell if he's upset or pissed or sad. And he doesn't want to know. He doesn't want to know if Steve is disappointed or angry or just a little wistful.

He drops the pieces of the broken ring on the coffee table with a clatter and pushes himself to his feet, stumbling as he clears the couch.

"I gotta go," Bucky says. Or thinks he says. His mind is both working too fast and not nearly fast enough, and he feels like he's running underwater, everything heavy and pressing too close around him.

"Bucky…" He doesn't look back, but Steve definitely sounds disappointed.

"I gotta go," Bucky repeats, snatching his keys from the hook beside the door.

"Bucky, wait!"

He doesn't wait to hear more, just slams the door behind him and runs. Waiting for the elevator seems too dangerous, leaves too much time for Steve to come after him, to tell him things he doesn't want to hear, so he sprints for the stairwell and runs down twelve flights to the ground floor, then bursts out onto the street.

It's too hot out and his lungs are bursting and he doesn't have a plan, can't think at all, but he finds himself on the subway. Instinct and habit put him on the right train, and he finds himself knocking on the door of the one place he knows he'll always be welcome.

Winnie Barnes opens the door, her expression going from annoyance to surprise to concern in the space of a second.

“What is it?" his mom asks, her eyes wide with panic. “Is it Steve? Did something happen to Steve?”

Then her eyes flick down, and she grabs his left hand, looking at the empty finger that has been circled with green glass since the fake wedding ceremony in the hospital chapel. Her eyes show that she understands what it means immediately.

“Oh, boychik,” she says. She opens up her arms to him, and he finds himself sobbing into his mother's shoulder.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky runs. Steve follows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the ending these two idiots deserve. And the one I owe you all after all those cliffhangers.

Bucky spends the next twenty minutes sitting on the couch, trying to explain to his mom exactly what happened with Steve in between hitched breaths and hiccupping sobs. His mom is calm and thoughtful and listens carefully to everything he says and everything he doesn't. And then she does the worst thing possible: she gives him hope.

"You don't know he was going to break up with you," she tells him. "Or fake break up with you," she tries again. "Heck, you know what I mean."

"He told me couldn't say anything until I took off the ring," Bucky says, his voice cracking on the words. "What else was he going to do?"

"Bucky, anyone can see that boy adores you." She sounds so certain, but Bucky knows her loyalty to her son is colouring what she sees.

"He's my best friend. He loves me like his best friend. But he doesn't _love me_ love me. And I swore I'd let him go when the time came." He stops and sniffs and swallows the lump that's come up in his throat again. "Doesn't mean it doesn't hurt, though," he finally chokes out.

"Oh, Bucky." Winnie puts her arms around him again, and rubs his back, just like she did when he was five years old and had a fever. She doesn't push him to say anymore, just sits with him until the tears stop.

"It's a bit hot for cocoa, but do you want some lemonade?" she finally asks when it's been five whole minutes since a tear rolled down his cheek.

He nods, and then follows her out to the kitchen.

He's sitting at the kitchen table, watching his mom mix a fresh pitcher of lemonade, when his phone buzzes in his pocket.

He ignores it.

When Winnie starts pouring the lemonade into his favourite glass, his phone buzzes again.

He ignores it again.

After his mom passes him the glass, his phone starts buzzing every thirty seconds until he feels like he has a pocket full of angry bees.

"You should answer him," she finally says.

"It won't do any good," he says. He powers off his phone without reading the screen of texts that show up.

Five minutes later, his parents' phone rings. They're about the only people he knows who still have a landline, and Steve's had the number memorized since they were in second grade.

"Don't answer it," he begs his mom. "Please."

"If I don't pick up, he's just going to call back until I do."

Winnie Barnes reaches for the phone.

"Hello, Steve."

Bucky bolts from the kitchen. He sits on the couch, hunched over, his head clutched in his hands, trying not to listen as his mom talks to Steve. But he stills hears fragments of the one-sided conversation.

"…doesn't want to talk…give him a few days…not a good idea…"

When she finally hangs up, she sits beside him, one hand rubbing his back again.

"He's worried about you, boychik," Winnie says. "He wants to talk to you."

"I can't," Bucky just about manages to choke out.

"I told him that. Told him to wait a few days." She runs a gentling hand through his hair. "But you do need to talk to him."

"Did he tell you? What he was going to say?"

"No. He wouldn't. He told me it's something he needs to tell you himself. But he did say he would never hurt you."

That startles a bitter laugh out of Bucky. Steve might not have _meant_ to hurt him, but he's managed it anyway.

His mom gives him a final pat on the back, then stands.

"I'll make your room up. You know you can stay as long as you need to."

Bucky nods without looking up. He can't bear to see the sympathy he knows will be in his mother's eyes.

"Thanks, Mom."

His mom drops a kiss onto the top of his head, and then he hears her footsteps walking away and up the stairs. He knows he should follow, try to get some sleep, but he can't bear the thought of moving. He finally slouches onto the couch, knees clutched tightly to his chest, trying desperately not to remember that last unreadable look he saw on Steve's face.

* * *

He wakes up on the couch to a banging sound.

Sometime during the night, his mom must have come down to check on him because there's a fleece blanket tucked around him and the pillow from his old room under his head. It's early enough that it isn't even light yet, and he can see the glint of a streetlight through a gap in the curtains.

The banging stops as soon as his eyes open, and he's almost convinced himself that he must have imagined it, that maybe it was part of a dream, when it starts up again.

Someone is knocking on the door.

No, not someone. Steve. Because who the hell else would be knocking on his parents' door at way-too-damn-early-o'clock in the morning?

He blinks, his eyelashes sticky with sleep, and pulls the pillow over his head, trying to block out the sound. He can't face Steve, not in rumpled clothes, his eyes still swollen from crying. Maybe not ever.

The banging stops, and Bucky thinks maybe Steve's given up. He should know better. Steve's never given up on anything in his life. When it starts up again, it's even louder than before.

"Bucky." Steve's voice is rough and cracked. "Bucky, I know you're there. Open the door." There's a long pause. "Please."

It's the "please" that does it. Forces Bucky off the couch, makes him put one foot in front of the other until he's standing in front of the door, hand reaching out for the door knob.

He can see Steve's silhouette through the frosted glass window, tall but hunched over, as if he's trying to be small again. 

Instead of opening the door, he leans his forehead against the burnished wood.

"What do you want, Steve?" 

"I can't do this through a door, Bucky."

"Do what?"

"Please, Bucky."

"Please," again. And again, the word makes Bucky act. He slowly turns the deadbolt and opens the door a crack. Steve's half in shadow, half lit by the orange of the streetlight, but Bucky can see his face. His eyes are as swollen and red-rimmed as Bucky's must be. His mouth trembles, though his voice is steady when he speaks.

"Can I come in?"

Part of Bucky, the wounded part, wants to say no, wants to slam the door and tell Steve to go away. But another part, the biggest part, the part that's known and loved Steve since they were kids, and been in love with him almost as long, eases the door open.

Steve turns his shoulders and slips in through the gap Bucky's opened. He stands in front of Bucky, feet planted, fists clenched at his sides, chin defiantly stuck out, looking exactly like he does every time he readies himself for a fight, every time he faces down a bully. Bucky tries not to think too hard about what that says about _him_.

"I know what it sounded like, but I didn't mean to hurt you." Steve looks him directly in the face, his gaze as unflinching as ever. Bucky can't take the honesty in his eyes and turns his gaze down to the floor.

"I know," he whispers. And he _does_ know. Steve would no more want to hurt him than _he'd_ want to hurt Steve. Which doesn't mean they haven't both managed to wound each other.

"I didn't ask you to take your ring off because I wanted out of the marriage. I did it because I wanted to give you this." 

Steve raises one hand, and Bucky realizes he has something held in his fist. Steve opens his fingers to reveal a small box of crushed blue velvet.

Bucky feels his throat close up and his heart beat fast and he tells himself this can't be what it looks like, but Steve opens the box and there's a ring sitting inside. The ring is made of jade, the rich green stone shot through with veins of paler celadon, at once more delicate and more substantial than the glass ring it's replacing. Steve takes the ring carefully in his hand and drops to one knee.

"You never did get me a new wedding ring, so I got one for you." Steve's voice is deep and steady, his eyes clearly focused on Bucky.

"James Buchanan Barnes, will you marry me?"

It's ridiculous to accept a marriage proposal from someone he's already legally married to, from someone he hasn't even kissed properly, but Bucky doesn't care. Steve is everything he's ever wanted. He opens his mouth to answer, but finds words are beyond him. Actions will have to do. He holds his left hand out, and Steve puts the ring on his finger, the slight shaking of his finger the only indication that he's nervous. The jade ring feels good. It feels right. It feels like it belongs on Bucky's finger.

He reaches out and pulls Steve to his feet and towards him, and their lips meet for the first time. The kiss is everything he's ever dreamed of, everything he's ever wanted. It's a million times better than the kiss in The Princess Bride. But he has to end it eventually. He gently pulls away. When he looks at him, Steve's eyes are full of tears he's refusing to shed and he's smiling

"God, I love you so much," Bucky says.

"Not as much as I love you," Steve says, and envelopes him in a crushing hug.

When they finally pull apart, Bucky hears a soft rustle behind him. He turns, and finds his parents sitting at the top of the stairs looking down at them. His mom is openly crying, her hands clutched to her chest. His dad has his arm around her, and he's beaming proudly.

"Sarah would be so pleased," Winnie manages to say, her voice thick with emotion.

"Mazel tov," George says, and Bucky doesn't think he's ever seen his dad look happier.

He puts his arm around Steve's waist and rests his head on Steve's shoulder. Bucky would have done anything to spare Steve the pain he's been through to get them here, to this place that Bucky's always wanted to be, but he can't regret the journey that's given him everything he's ever wanted.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wedding 2.0.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it! The final chapter! 
> 
> Thanks to everyone who's come on this journey with me. I've looked forward to seeing the comments after each twist.
> 
> And thanks again to my betas/expert advisers, [halotolerant](https://archiveofourown.org/users/halotolerant) and [HoneySempai](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HoneySempai). And to [debwalsh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/debwalsh), whose story request started me off on writing this beast.

"Are you ready? Do you have everything? I'm sure we're forgetting something. Rebecca, do you have the rings? You didn't forget the rings, did you? George, you need to go back and get the rings."

Bucky's mom fusses over his bow tie, adjusts his tallit, and brushes lint only she can see from the lapel of his tuxedo. Behind her, Becks smiles at Bucky and holds up the box containing the rings.

"I've got the rings, Mom," she says. "Do you have the glass?"

"The glass! Oh my…" Winnie Barnes rummages through her purse until she pulls out the silk bag Bucky last saw in a hospital chapel. "Got it!"

"Is it a real glass this time?" Becks asks, one eyebrow raised skeptically.

"What do you mean, a real glass?" Bucky's interested now.

"She cheated at the hospital and used a light bulb," Becks confesses with a grin.

"Mom!" Bucky is a bit shocked. His mom is the one who complains when she suspects other couples of using a light bulb to get an easy pop when breaking the glass at their wedding.

"Steve was so sick and you were so worried, and I wanted everything to be perfect," Winnie says, not looking the least bit apologetic. "And it was." She pats Bucky on the cheek. "And today is going to be even more perfect." She turns to her daughter. "And yes, Rebecca Barnes, I did bring a real glass this time."

Bucky takes a deep breath and ignores the squabbling between his mother and sister. He's a bit jealous that Steve will be walking down the aisle with Natasha. She's the steadiest person he's ever met. She could keep anyone calm.

Not that he's not ecstatic that both his parents will be walking him down the aisle this time, with Becks as his Best Person. ("I refuse to let you call me a maid of honour," Becks had told him.) Almost as ecstatic that he and Steve are going to be in proper tuxes (beautifully made by Tony's personal tailor, his wedding present to them both) instead of the hideous neon monstrosities they wore in the hospital chapel. Though he does feel some affection for those neon monstrosities. After all, now they're part of his and Steve's history together, part of the first steps that led them to this moment.

He startles as Becks takes hold of his elbow.

"You okay, big brother?" she asks quietly.

He takes another deep breath and then nods.

"Yeah, little sister." He flashes her a grin. "I'm good."

"All right, then." She catches her mother's eye. "C'mon, Mom. Dad. Let's go."

They leave the private room, turning to the foyer of the synagogue where Sam waits to open the door to the main sanctuary, and run immediately into Steve and Natasha. Steve gives him the biggest smile, which he can't help but return. 

There've been a lot of smiles between them in the last two months, starting with the morning of Steve's proposal. 

After Steve had gone down on one knee, the two of them had sat in his parents' living room beaming at each other while George Barnes had gone out to get bagels, lox, coffee, and a little schmear. "To celebrate Steve finally joining the family properly," he'd said. After breakfast, Steve had dragged Bucky back to their own apartment, neither of them able to keep their hands off each other on the train. Steve seemed to forget how big he was, and ended up on Bucky's lap. Not that Bucky minded getting squashed by Steve on the number 2 train.

When the train reached their stop, they tumbled out of the station, walking arm-in-arm on streets only beginning to get busy. In their building, they stumbled out of the elevator and into their apartment, where Steve shoved the door shut, then pushed Bucky against it, moving in close for a kiss even more devastating than their first one had been, all heat and tongue and rough lips.

When Steve finally pulled back, Bucky looked at him in wonder.

"Fuck, Stevie," he said as he tried desperately to get his breath back. "What'd I ever do to deserve you?"

Steve got a fond look in his eyes and cupped Bucky's face with one warm hand, his thumb playing lightly over Bucky's lower lip.

"I could say the same thing, Buck." He leaned in for a gentle touch of their lips. "I could absolutely say the same thing."

They didn't come up for air all weekend. There were make out sessions on the couch, hand jobs in Steve's bedroom, blowjobs in Bucky's, and sex absolutely everywhere they could manage it. ("Gotta christen the whole apartment, Rogers," Bucky said.) And in between, they'd cuddle and hug and talk about everything and nothing.

"Why didn't you ever tell me how you felt?" Bucky finally asked. Steve's head was pillowed on his shoulder, and Bucky gently brushed the hair out of his eyes.

"Why didn't you?" Steve drew a hand lazily up Bucky's side until he shivered.

"I don't know," he said, even though he did.

"C'mon." Steve poked him. "You tell me, and I'll tell you."

Bucky breathed deeply and took a minute to sort it all out, the muddle of emotions he'd gone through in the past months.

"'Cause I was scared," Bucky finally blurted out. "'Cause I didn't think I was good enough for you." He drew a gentle hand down Steve's face and held him more tightly. "And then after we, you know, got married, I didn't want you to feel like you owed me anything."

"You're better than I deserve," Steve said, a soft look on his face. "And I owe you everything, but not like that."

Bucky couldn't help but kiss him after that.

"Your turn. Why didn't you say anything?"

Steve didn't hesitate at all.

"Because I always knew I was living on borrowed time. I figured I'd be dead before I was thirty, and I didn't want that to hurt you more than it had to. That, and handsome as you are, I didn't figure scrawny, little me had a chance with you."

"Scrawny or not, you've always been the most beautiful person I know." Bucky had hugged Steve hard and kissed the top of his head. "And I'll take however long I've got with you."

He can't kiss Steve now, can only give him one final, fond look as Winnie and George lead him into the main sanctuary of the temple. 

They walk down the aisle, surrounded by pews filled with friends and family, everyone who's important to them: all the aunts, uncles and cousins on both the Barnes and Buchanan sides; Steve's friends from university; friends of both of them from school, kids Steve stood up for from the beginning of their friendship; Tony and Pepper, with Sam slipping in beside them; Dr. Afolabie and Dr. Cho, Reyes and Esther, and so many of the medical team that saved Steve's life. Dr. Afolabie beams at them as they pass her row, and Reyes gives them a wink. Tony smirks as they pass him and Pepper, because of course he does. Sam mouths "grandkids" at him yet again, and this time it doesn't feel like a joke, but more like a suggestion of what their life together could bring.

The ceremony is at the temple the Barnes family has gone to for three generations at Steve's insistence.

"My mom was the serious Catholic," Steve had told him when they started planning out their actual, proper wedding and Steve had first mentioned converting. "I like the idea of joining your family in every way possible."

It'll take Steve a year to convert, but he's already doing weekly classes with Rabbi Mendelsohn and is more observant than Bucky's ever been. He goes to temple regularly with Winnie Barnes, and Becks on the weekends when she's home. He'd even said the prayer over the challah two weeks ago when they'd gone to his parent's for Shabbat. "His Hebrew is better than yours," his mom had told Bucky. "That's not hard, Mom," he'd replied. "My Hebrew has always been lousy. I barely got through my bar mitzvah."

Now, they stand under the chuppah as Rabbi Mendelsohn performs the ceremony. With Steve not in a wheelchair this time, they've decided they'll each circle the other three times, then circle together once. And though this time the ceremony is all Jewish, to honour the memory of Sarah Rogers they've invited Father Gregory to deliver a reading. Steve managed to steer him away from the New Testament and toward the Song of Songs.

"For stern as death is love," Father Gregory says in his steady tenor. "relentless as the nether world is devotion; its flames are a blazing fire. Deep waters cannot quench love, nor floods sweep it away.”

Bucky can't help but feel the reading is perfect for them. Their love has been forged by a closeness to death and Bucky knows in his heart it will never shatter. 

Finally, after they've gone through most of the ceremony and exchanged their matching jade rings, they share in the reading of the ketubah.

For the last two months, they've worked with Rabbi Mendelsohn on writing their own ketubah, their marriage contract, their commitment to each other. Steve made notes in his sketching journal surrounded with drawings of Bucky and their life together, while Bucky tapped out his thoughts on his phone whenever he was inspired. Words aren't Bucky's strength – he's an engineer, best at working in circuits and formulas – but together they've created a template for their life together, the promise of love and respect and devotion to each other.

Once the words were ready, Steve worked with a calligrapher Rabbi Mendelsohn recommended to create the version of the ketubah that will hang in their home. The calligrapher, Ruth, wrote out their words on stiff parchment in Hebrew and English. Steve took the parchment and painted a watercolour frame around the words, vignettes of their life together from that first meeting in PS 191 to the present.

Before the ceremony, they signed the ketubah, along with Rabbi Mendelsohn, Natasha and Becks, and now it sits on a display stand behind them. Neither of them needs to read it; they don't need notes to remember it. The words are part of them both.

"You are my best friend," Steve says. "You are my inspiration. You are my shield against dark times. I take you as my life partner as you are, and however you may change."

"You are my soul," Bucky takes up the thread from Steve. "You are my courage. You are the best of me. I enter this union with you, certain that our bond will grow ever stronger, regardless of where life takes us."

"I carry your heart in mine," they both say, their voices twining together as their lives will from this time forward, their eyes locked on each other. "We pledge our strength and kindness to each other; to share life’s joys, and to comfort each other through life’s sorrows. We will build a home together, and fill it with laughter and love, creativity and companionship.

"May our love give us the freedom to be ourselves and the courage to follow our own paths. May we live each day as the first, the last, the only day we will have with each other."

When Bucky finally turns from Steve and looks back out into the pews, he sees smiles and tears. His mom sobs and clutches at his dad, whose chest is puffed up proudly. Sam beams, Becks grins, and Natasha discreetly dabs at her eyes with what is no doubt a delicate designer handkerchief. (Bucky will never mention witnessing Natasha's moment of emotion to another human being. He may be a stupid sap in love, but he's got some sense of self-preservation.)

For Bucky, the rest of the ceremony passes in a blur. He knows Rabbi Mendelsohn says the Sheva Brachot and the blessing, before pronouncing them husband and husband, but he barely hears the words, so intently is he concentrating on Steve's presence, those blue eyes holding his gaze. But he hears the rabbi's instructions to kiss his husband, and this time, neither of them hesitates. Their kiss is passionate and full of love.

Then his mom produces the real glass in its silk bag, he and Steve stomp it, and the congregation erupts in shouts of "Mazel tov!"

The room is still in tumult as Rabbi Mendelsohn leads them to the Yichud room. This time there's no awkwardness, no doubt about what the ceremony has meant to both of them.

They sit on the room's couch, not an inch of space between them, their foreheads pressed together.

"This is the best day of my life," Steve says finally, after a comfortable silence has settled around them like a protective blanket.

"Mine, too." Bucky squeezes Steve's hand, feeling closer to him in this moment than he's felt to any other human being, ever.

"I love you, Mr. Barnes Rogers," Steve says.

"I love you, Mr. Rogers Barnes," Bucky replies. 

He's never meant anything more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [HoneySempai](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HoneySempai) once again provided invaluable help getting Steve and Bucky's second wedding just right. Bits of Steve and Bucky's ketubah are pinched and adapted from [this site](https://www.interfaithfamily.com/life_cycle/weddings/Choosing_an_Interfaith_Ketubah/).
> 
> Like the story? Consider reblogging it on [Tumblr](http://trappingsofzed.tumblr.com/post/180031586980/read-on-ao3-word-count-53452-rating-mature).


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